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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444103">Sick Sad Freshmen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questing/pseuds/Questing'>Questing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daria (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, F/F, Graphic Description, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Canon, Realistic, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Vanilla, hard fiction, realistic fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:35:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>50,402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questing/pseuds/Questing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, approximately 8 months after the original series takes place, Daria and Jane are both accepted to the out-of-state Brown University. Changing attitudes and feelings affect both of them, and the pressure of impending post-secondary education does not help the situation. They both know something has changed between them. How they handle it remains to be seen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jane Lane/Daria Morgendorffer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Dip in Entropy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a work in progress. At the moment, anything you see published below this message may be subject to change. It is technically a first draft. I did not expect to write a Daria fanfiction, ever, but it has suddenly happened and I am rolling with it to the best of my ability. I will attempt to update the fic regularly but can make no guarantees due to work schedule. Please enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Daria stood at the kitchen table, hunched over the letter Quinn told her had arrived earlier that day. She had torn into the envelope carelessly, destroying the official looking letterhead at the top of the page. <em> Oops. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Subject, letter of acceptance. Institution, Brown University. <em> Unbelievable. </em> She held the letter in front of her, looking around briefly for the cordless phone. She found it, quickly dialing Janes’ house.</p><p> </p><p>Trent picked up. “Hey, Daria. Looking for Janey?” he asked in his typical low and slow tone.</p><p> </p><p>“As per usual” Daria responded wryly.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure thing, she actually just walked in”, he handed the phone off to Jane.</p><p> </p><p>“Jane, you’re not going to believe this-” Daria was cut off by a laugh from Jane. She clearly expected a call like this, with a setup like that.</p><p> </p><p>“I assume you got a letter from Brown?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria paused, then replied “I did, did you?”. </p><p> </p><p>Jane pulled the folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Oh yeah. Accepted, BA Visual Arts”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria read off her own acceptance memo. “Accepted, BA Comparative Literature”. They both fell silent for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess we should probably go for it” they said in unison.</p><p> </p><p>They had both applied to Brown University on a whim two months prior, after having little luck with other more local institutions and Raft University being low on each of their post-secondary wishlists. Neither Jane or Daria expected to actually be accepted to the relatively prestigious out-of-state institute.</p><p> </p><p>“Changing the subject for a minute if I may, I have some more news” Jane piped up.</p><p> </p><p>“Go ahead,” Daria replied. <em> Is it as exciting as accidentally getting accepted to Brown? </em></p><p> </p><p>“It will help with the whole Brown being six hours away thing” Jane continued. “Trent found me a car.”</p><p> </p><p>Darias eyes widened behind her glasses and she plopped herself down on the couch. “Why do I get the feeling you meant the word ‘found’ literally” she stated half-jokingly.</p><p> </p><p>“You got me, I did mean it literally” Jane confessed.</p><p> </p><p>Trent had been out trolling for scrap metal north of the city, in true unemployed fashion, to pay for a new guitar amp. He ended up finding a car in an abandoned lot with a cardboard cut-out sign sharpied to say ‘FREE’ placed in the windshield.</p><p> </p><p>Doors were unlocked, keys in the center console, so he seized the opportunity. It looked like it had been there for a while, but it ran. How could he pass up a functioning ‘94 Lebaron? A coupe, no less.</p><p> </p><p>“He already has his Acclaim, so he gave me the Lebaron” Jane explained. “Didn’t have plates though” she added.</p><p> </p><p>Daria snorted, “Jane, that car could have been used to transport drugs, or a dead body. Or a dead body full of drugs” she joked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane acquiesced “That’s what I thought, but Penny pulled some strings with a friend of hers at the DMV, the VIN came back clean.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria paused briefly, “Of course she did, at least she makes herself useful when she decides to show her face in Lawndale”.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm” Jane grunted, “still hardly ever see her, though”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria rolled her eyes, “a tent in the back yard I assume?”. </p><p> </p><p>“You guessed it. Only lasted in the house about a week, something about not wanting to keep us up, if you can believe that”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shifted in her seat slightly saying “Whatever floats her boat I suppose”.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess” Jane replied, deadpan.</p><p> </p><p>“That car, though” Daria reiterated.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, it will benefit us both, right? If we’re actually going to an out of state university” Jane said. </p><p> </p><p>“True. At least you didn’t have to finance the thing” Daria said as she wandered to the kitchen, pulling the fridge door open and foraging for junk food.</p><p> </p><p>“You know it, just had to pay for plates” Jane smirked.</p><p> </p><p> “Speaking of financing, if we pull the trigger on this Brown U thing, how are you paying for it” Jane wondered out loud. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I can only assume my parents will lose their minds when I tell them I was accepted, and offer to pay my way in a fit of sheer parental delight” Daria replied, relieved and exasperated at her own hypothetical.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged, “Thanks mom and dad”. She continued, “I suppose I will have to tap into the education trust left to me by my great aunt that Trent only just saw fit to tell me about, having been applying to colleges and whatnot.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised her eyebrows, “Wow, an education trust? That was nice of Great Auntie” she said, retrieving a paper plate of cold pizza from the fridge. </p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, it's a load off my mind. Trent seriously could have told me sooner” Jane said as she fidgeted with the phone cord.</p><p> </p><p>Daria tossed the frigid slice into a pan and placed it on the stovetop. “Yeah, him, or your mom” she said. “Want to hang out tonight?” she asked after a brief lull in conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Krav Maga class” Jane replied. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right, guerilla Israeli street fighting” Daria mused. “How’s that going, by the way?”</p><p> </p><p>“Surprisingly well” she said, in an uncharacteristically enthusiastic tone. “Martial arts are surprisingly straightforward when you aren’t bogged down with trying to <em> not </em> kill your opponent” she continued. </p><p> </p><p>Daria grinned as she flipped the slice in front of her and it hissed as grease hit hot metal, “Brutal.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane huffed rhythmically as she pounded the sidewalk, holding the gym bag on her back steady. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon as she ran, almost unblinking. Through her headphones, Zack de la Rocha screamed about bulls on parade.</p><p> </p><p>She thumbed the volume wheel of her walkman, as the music got louder she ran faster. Jane could feel her pulse pounding, her long, driven stride taking her to the gym in what she considered record time.</p><p> </p><p>Her plan to warm up and clear her head by running to Krav Maga class had worked like a charm. She pushed through the front door, glancing around. Mostly empty, save for the instructor and a handful of other classmates who reliably showed up, such as herself. </p><p> </p><p>“Jane, good to see you” her instructor said, with a smile and wave from the squat rack at the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Arnie”, Jane stowed her bag and running shoes.</p><p> </p><p>Arnie, her Krav Maga instructor was an affable fellow sporting a lethal mullet, a stocky and hairy man of unknown origins. However, his thick accent gave away his international roots.</p><p> </p><p>Jane wouldn’t pry, but she guessed Belgium. Maybe Denmark? Whatever it was, he was an ex special forces operator with more awards in martial arts than years Jane had been alive.</p><p> </p><p>“You ran?” Arnie said as he approached.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yeah, got some news today and just wanted to clear my head before class” Jane replied, shrugging.</p><p> </p><p>“Good, good for you. Since you are already warmed up, maybe we can have a quick spar with techniques we learned last week?” Arnie suggested, still smiling.</p><p> </p><p>Jane removed her piercings and unrolled her boxing tape, wrapping her knuckles methodically. She clenched her fists as she replied, “Let’s”.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Daria laid splayed out on her bed. Searching the blank ceiling for how to feel about their tandem accidental acceptance to Brown. Maybe the gravity of the news had numbed her amygdala because it had yet to cause a panic attack. <em> Or some kind of excitement at the least </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Despite this, she still found herself looking forward to what this might mean for her, and for her friend who she was admittedly relieved would be there with her. Darias’ wandering mind was snapped back to the reality of living in a house with people in it when Quinns' voice pierced the silence. </p><p> </p><p>“<b>HOOOME</b>!” she blurted, stomping through the front door and tossing her purse onto the end table by the door. “Daria? I assume you’re home” she continued to yell, lazily directing her voice up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Daria groaned, apparently loud enough to be heard by Quinn who was now coming up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn stopped in Darias doorway, hands on her hips. “So?”. She waited on Darias’ response, and Daria sat up on her bed. </p><p> </p><p>“So?” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>“That letter I told you about, I saw who it was from” Quinn stated matter-of-factly. “A university. Not just any university, but an out of state one” she continued. “So did you get accepted?”. </p><p> </p><p>She sighed “Yeah, I did”. Daria hung her head back, trying not to fall backward into the position she was just laying in.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn cracked a small smile, “Well I guess congratulations are in order. I hope you realise mom and dad are going to have a cow” she said nonchalantly before turning on her heel and heading to her own room.</p><p> </p><p>Daria watched her go. “You didn’t actually congratulate me” she said to the now empty doorway.</p><p> </p><p><b>“CONGRATS</b>!” Quinn yelled. </p><p> </p><p>Daria sighed again. <em>A cow.</em> <em>Great.</em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane rocked on her heels, tugging her ponytail absently as she waited for Trent to pick her up. The sun was setting and a few late-blooming cicadas were whining about it. The events of the day slowly but surely crept back into her mind, and it made her want to talk to someone.</p><p> </p><p>She was planning to tell Trent sooner rather than later, her mother and father… Whenever. The sound of a squeaky fan belt in the distance meant Trent would soon appear, and she stepped off the curb.</p><p> </p><p>The squeaking got louder, and louder, until eventually Trent and his Acclaim pulled up in front of her. Jane tossed her affects into the back seat, and hopped into the passenger side.</p><p> </p><p>She hung one arm out the window, and with her other hand she pulled a pack of Camel lights from her breast pocket. She punched in Trents socket lighter and pulled a cigarette out with her lips.</p><p> </p><p>The lighter popped back out with a mechanical <em> clack, </em>and Jane pulled it from its place in the dash. Trent glanced over as she lit her cigarette, taking a few quick puffs before sliding the lighter back into its socket.</p><p> </p><p>“Since when?” he piped up.</p><p> </p><p>“Since I had a helluva day and got accepted to Brown U in Rhode Island” she divulged, exasperated.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah woah, seriously Janey?” Trent said and placed a hand on her shoulder. “That's great news, I don’t suppose you’ve told mom and dad yet?” he continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I will. It’s just a lot to take in right now. I applied to that place on a whim” she explained. “So did Daria, we applied at the same time in some sort of half-hearted hail mary attempt at having some say in our postsecondary future”.</p><p> </p><p>Trent kept his eyes on the road, saying “You and Daria both applied, did you both get accepted?”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, taking another drag from her cigarette. “Yep, and that's most of the reason why I am not at a total loss right now”.</p><p> </p><p>Trent exhaled sharply, “Damn”. </p><p> </p><p>Jane opened her eyes, but kept them on the road as well. “Yeah, damn”. She finished her cigarette, pinched it out and dropped it in the grimy pull-out ashtray by her knee. “What's the date today?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Trent scratched his five o’clock shadow. “July 22nd-ish” he replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jane rubbed the back of her neck. “The 99-00 academic year starts on September 6th” she stated, tensing her jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“That's a fastball” Trent said bluntly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it wouldn’t have been if we applied sooner and didn't accidentally get accepted” Jane replied.</p><p> </p><p>Trent and Jane pulled into their driveway. Sitting in silence for a few moments, Trent shifted toward his sister. “Janey, this might be a pain in the ass, but it's a good pain in the ass, you know what I’m sayin’?”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane held back a smile, “I do Trent, but I definitely wouldn’t word it like that”.</p><p> </p><p>Trent laughed, and eventually so did Jane.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria sat at the kitchen table, staring at the spoon in her hand as the morning sun glinted off of its polished silver finish. She scooped up some cereal and took an unenthusiastic bite.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn sat beside her, sawing at too-hot toaster strudels as she related the most recent fashion club gossip to Helen. <em> Just keep talking about fashion, Quinn, don’t mention the letter. </em>At least not until she had finished her coffee.</p><p> </p><p>Daria took the last bite of her cereal, and the last sip of coffee hadn’t even had the seven seconds it takes to make it from your mouth to your stomach before Quinn let the proverbial cat out of the proverbial bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh, I’m just so excited for you Daria, I can’t stop thinking about how much that letter means for you” she mused absently between bites of apple-cinnamon strudel.</p><p> </p><p>Jake lowered his newspaper, “Letter? What letter?” he asked to anyone willing to listen.</p><p>Helen chimed in with yet another “What letter?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria put her spoon down and sighed. <em> Might as well just rip the bandaid off now. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I got a letter. From Brown University in Rhode Island.”</p><p> </p><p>Jake slammed his coffee mug down, his eyes wide, “THE Brown U!? What about it!?” he asked, almost frantically.</p><p> </p><p>Helen placed her hands on the table in front of her and leaned in. “Daria, what are you talking about, what did this letter say?” she needled.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Jane and I applied to Brown on a whim during the last week of applications…” Daria began, glancing between her parents who were quite literally on the edge of their seats. “We got accepted. BA Comparative Literature for me, BA Visual Arts for her”.</p><p> </p><p>The silence that followed was quickly shattered by Jake who leapt from his chair, “YES! MY DAUGHTER IS A BROWN GIRL!” he hollered.</p><p> </p><p>Daria immediately interjected with “find a better way to word that, dad”.</p><p> </p><p>Helen stood up, rounding the table to hug her saying “Oh my goodness Daria honey, this is fantastic, why didn’t you tell us you applied to Brown?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn kept munching strudel casually, with her mouth full adding “Hmm, I wonder if they have a cosmetology program at Brown…”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stood up, taking her bowl and spoon with her, when Jake went in for a high five.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked at his hand, raised her own, and Jake finished said elevated five for her.</p><p> </p><p>“Way to go honey, this is just great, wow” he said, slapping his knee enthusiastically.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep, sure is” Daria agreed, deadpan as can be. “I’ve got to shower” she stated, pushing her chair in, placing her dishes in the dishwasher and leaving the room thusly.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn looked up, “wow, talk about a wet blanket”, though her parents were too busy excitedly chattering amongst themselves to even notice.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph.” Quinn grumbled as she finished her breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She stared absently at the wall in front of her, and reached for the radio on the counter, switching it on.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of Foo Fighters’ “<em> My Poor Brain </em> ” immediately filled the room. <em> Fitting. </em>Daria reached behind the shower curtain and turned the knob, testing the water briefly.</p><p> </p><p>She kicked off her slippers, and stepped out of her pyjama pants. She laid them on the counter and pulled her shirt over her head. Turning toward the mirror, she placed her hands on the vanity and stared at herself. </p><p> </p><p>She was worried. Her face seemed tense. She took off her glasses and the worry on her face was still there, just blurrier. She pulled the shower curtain back, stepping in.</p><p> </p><p>The hot water pouring down over her shoulders suddenly gave her goosebumps. She tilted her head back and let the water cover her face. She couldn't breath as the water rushed past her nose and mouth.</p><p> </p><p>The warmth felt better than breathing, though, so she held her breath. She kept holding it until pain began to build in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>She exhaled, pulling her head from the stream of water. <em> I hate being an adult. </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane hefted a fresh canvas to chest height and placed it on her easel. She dipped her largest brush in primer and began slathering white on white. She had mostly finished the base coat when the phone rang.</p><p> </p><p>She wiped her hands on a rag that stank of paint thinner. Tossing it down she picked up the phone and answered, “Yo you got J Lane”.</p><p> </p><p>“It's me.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi me, this is you.” Jane replied. </p><p> </p><p>“Uhh…” Daria sounded as if she cocked an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Jane giggled to herself. “Whats up, Daria?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Mind if I come over?” Daria questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, now?” Jane answered. </p><p> </p><p>Daria approached the Lanes’ door, knocked and stepped back. Strangely enough, it was Penny that came to the door, a forty of malt liquor in hand. </p><p> </p><p>Daria tried not to look surprised and failed. <em> Drinking at 11:45 in the morning? Also, aren’t you supposed to be camping in the backyard? </em></p><p> </p><p>Penny motioned for her to come in and closed the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Here to see Janey I assume?” Penny asked, taking a quizzical sip from the large brown bottle she held.</p><p> </p><p>“Your assumption is correct” Daria affirmed.</p><p> </p><p>“She's upstairs, go ahead” Penny said before turning and wordlessly exiting the house through the back door. </p><p> </p><p>Daria watched through the window as Penny unzipped the shabby tent that looked more like a yurt than anything, stepped in and zipped up.<em> Alright then. </em></p><p> </p><p>Daria ascended the steps to the upper level of the Lane residence, and approaching Janes’ door, she knocked and listened.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on in” Jane said, muffled from behind the door.</p><p> </p><p>Daria swung the door open, scrunching her nose up as the smell of drying primer assailed her. </p><p> </p><p>“Smells like Chernobyl in here” she quipped, setting down her bag and taking a seat at the foot of Janes’ bed.</p><p> </p><p>“I absolutely take that as a compliment” Jane shot back.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been thinking about university” Daria began.</p><p> </p><p>Jane quickly nodded in acknowledgement, “Hah, same.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria continued, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, trying to separate dread from excitement. Would you… Would you maybe want to room together? You know, for practical reasons, to share the inevitable financial burden that is” she stammered.</p><p> </p><p>Jane set her brush and palette down, and sat with Daria at the foot of her bed. “Practical and economic reasons, huh? Can’t argue with that” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane adjusted her collar, mulling over the suggestion. “I think it might be cool being roommates, especially with all that soon-to-be college age independence, right?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked her in the eyes, “You think?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane threw her arm around Darias shoulders, giving her a playful shove. “Hell yeah it would be.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria glanced at Janes’ arm, and in a tiny voice replied simply “Thanks”.</p><p> </p><p>She placed her head on Janes’ shoulder. Jane was caught off guard by the sudden, uncharacteristic display of affection from her friend.</p><p> </p><p>She hoped Daria wouldn’t notice the heat and shade of red that overcame her face.</p><p> </p><p>Sometime later, Daria had left, and Jane stood in front of her primed canvas. Her mind kept wandering back to what had just transpired.</p><p> </p><p>She chewed the tip of her paintbrush, hesitating. Then, sizing up her work surface, mixed her palette, and began to paint. What eventually materialized on the canvas was a striking likeness of her best friend, sat comfortably at the foot of her bed.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria reclined on the couch, clutching a copy of Hoftadters’ <em> Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid. </em>She had checked the book out of Lawndale Highs’ library, and it was unsurprisingly in almost pristine condition. </p><p> </p><p><em> Emergent cognition, every normal highschoolers’ bread and butter. </em>Daria looked up from the volume to find her parents standing in front of her, smiling wordlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“How can I help you gentlepeople?” Daria said, marking her page and placing the book down on her lap. </p><p> </p><p>“You can help us by telling us what you think of this-” Helen said as she nudged Jake.</p><p> </p><p>He produced a folded open magazine from behind his back and held it up in front of Darias face. </p><p> </p><p>She stared. <em> Real estate? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Real estate?” she questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Not just any real estate, this is prime student housing, in short supply as you could imagine, but prime nonetheless!” Jake explained. “You like?” he asked nervously.</p><p> </p><p>Helen took the magazine, thumbed to the next page which was a collage of interior photos of the apartment on the previous. </p><p> </p><p>“What your father is trying to say is that we took the liberty of finding some absolutely darling student accommodation, we think you would love it”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria scanned the images on the page. Admittedly, the apartment in question was quite nice. It was also bizarrely affordable, which immediately struck her as suspicious.</p><p> </p><p>However, its claim to be within walking distance of various amenities and the campus itself was enticing. <em> I can’t believe I’m seriously engaging in property evaluation. </em></p><p> </p><p>“So what do you think?” Jake asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It is indeed a very nice apartment mom and dad, if only I had the nine hundred dollars a month required to live there” Daria said flatly. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, Daria” Helen began, “Your father and I spoke to our accountant-”</p><p> </p><p> Jake interrupted “and our tax attorney!”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm yes and our tax attorney and as it turns out you do in fact qualify for aid on your tuition” Helen continued. “Which means a portion of the money we put aside for your education could be used to pay for a decent little apartment”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sat back, trying not to let the class privilege overcome her completely. “So you’re telling me you are able to pay for my schooling and housing?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, however you would still be responsible for things like textbooks and groceries” Helen replied.</p><p> </p><p>“That's right, we’re happy to help out as much as we can but you will still have some financial responsibility.” Jake added, “It builds character!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, how could I say no to an offer like that?” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jake and Helen straightened up, and Helen pulled out her cellphone. “Well then it's settled, I’ll contact the realtor” she asserted.</p><p> </p><p>Jake took the magazine and started off toward the kitchen, “and I’ll put the magazine away!”. </p><p> </p><p>Daria pinched the bridge of her nose. <em> I guess this is a good thing. </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“So your parents found you an apartment and are going to put you up there on their dime?” Jane questioned, stirring her pot of instant ramen.</p><p> </p><p>She switched the cordless phone to her other shoulder as she cooked. “Any way I could get cut in on that deal?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria chuckled, “I’m sure I could get you in on it, there might be some stipulations though” she clarified.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged “Stipulations I can handle, as long as I have a place to sleep that isn’t zoned as a homeless shelter” she quipped.</p><p> </p><p>Jane poured her ramen into a bowl and lazily poked at it with chopsticks as it cooled. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh hey I just remembered, Trent has a gig lined up in Gaithersburg this weekend” Jane said.</p><p> </p><p> “Oh?” Daria replied, immediately interested.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re invited. It's a big one apparently, the biggest show the band has done so far”.</p><p> </p><p> Jane took a sarcastic tone “at least according to Trent, that is”. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m game” Daria said, “Can we take the Lebaron?” she asked expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hell yeah we're taking the Lebaron, are you kidding-” Jane laughed, cutting herself short as she slurped noodles from her bowl.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, meet at your place?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Cool. Friday, let's say four o’clock” Jane confirmed. </p><p> </p><p>After hanging up, Jane suddenly felt butterflies. Why? She had been to shows with Trent and Daria before. Maybe it was because this was supposed to be a big show? After all, Washington made Lawndale look like a mid sized RV park by comparison.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was something else. Something she wasn’t so sure about.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey” Trent said from behind Jane, causing her to jump and almost knock over her bowl of ramen.</p><p> </p><p>“Trent, Jesus” she said and took a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry to freak you out, just saw you mad-dogging that bowl of noodles like it owed you money. Thought you might be having a seizure or something”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just… thinking”.</p><p> </p><p>Trent shrugged, “Alright, whatever. You and Daria coming to the gig in Gaithersburg this weekend?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded her head. “We’re going to take the Lebaron” she said.</p><p> </p><p>“Cool, I got you and the Lebaron added to mom and dads’ insurance policy, by the way” Trent explained.</p><p> </p><p>Jane raised an eyebrow. “Really.”</p><p> </p><p>Trent smirked, “Yep, I’m pretty sure they think I’m our dad” he clarified.</p><p> </p><p>Standing up, Jane tossed her chopsticks into the sink, already piled high with dishes. She brushed herself off. “Thanks, Trent” she said.</p><p> </p><p>“Any time, sis” Trent replied, patting her on the back once.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That Friday, Daria found herself in front of the closet unironically contemplating what to wear. <em> What have I become. </em></p><p> </p><p>After all, this was a serious gig and she was one of the bands plus ones. A plus two? Whatever she was she found herself uncharacteristically concerned with not making the band, or more importantly Trent, look bad at a major show.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled a black tee shirt from one of the hangers. The ominous album art of “<em> The Bends” </em> by Radiohead adorned the front of it, and aside from a small hole in the armpit seam, it would do.</p><p> </p><p>Daria briefly wondered if it was tacky to wear another band's shirt to a concert, but decided she didn’t particularly care. </p><p> </p><p>Paired with matte black skinny jeans Quinn gave her out of what she declared “pity” and some fresh Chuck Taylor high tops she had never even taken out of the box, her outfit came together.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well that's the entirety of my care for fashion depleted for the next decade. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria gathered her things and made for the door.</p><p> </p><p>She looked around the entryway and noticed her mother at the kitchen table, head buried in lawyerly paperwork. Affidavits, promissory notes, articles of incorporation and the like. </p><p> </p><p>Daria called to her from the door, “Mom, you said you could drive me to Janes today.”</p><p> </p><p>Helen looked up, suddenly realising the hour.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh goodness me, of course Daria!” she replied, getting up from the table ensuring not to lose her place in whatever riveting document she was tending to.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching for her keys, she rushed to the door, swinging it open allowing Daria to exit.</p><p><br/>
Helen noticed Darias surprisingly competent outfit and set about botching a compliment.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, honey, you look coordinated. I thought Quinn was out at the moment…”</p><p> </p><p>Daria rolled her eyes so hard she could have pulled a muscle.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>As Daria and her mother rolled up to Janes’ house, Helen spotted Jane leaning against the trunk of her Lebaron. She was in her typical attire, save for a pair of sunglasses Daria hadn’t seen her wear up to that point.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Amanda and Vincent got a new car? It's a lovely shade of red” Helen pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually mom, it's Janes’. Trent found it while scavenging for scrap metal” Daria clarified.</p><p> </p><p>Helens expression turned from that of admiration to abject confusion in a heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>“He… Found a car, searching for scrap metal…” Helen said, scratching her head and looking to Daria for further explanation.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t look at me, it is what it is” Daria said, smirking. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the drive mom, I am going to crash here tonight, by the way” Daria continued. She stepped out of the car at the same time, closing the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Helen rolled her window down.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, you girls have fun! Call me if you need anything!”</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane both gave her a hasty thumbs up as she drove off.</p><p> </p><p>Daria turned her attention to the scarlet Lebaron parked beside Trents noticeably shabby looking Acclaim.</p><p> </p><p>Jane piped up, “So, what do you think?” motioning toward the car.</p><p> </p><p>Darias mouth was agape at the vehicle which was in astonishingly good condition.</p><p> </p><p>“Trent found this… and instead of selling it, or using it himself and handing down the Acclaim, he just gave it to you” Daria recounted to her friend.</p><p> </p><p>“Right? What a gem, that guy” Jane joked, pulling the driver side door open.</p><p> </p><p>She settled in, looking over her shoulder at Daria, still standing beside the car. “Well what are you waiting for? Get in” she said, grinning wide.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stepped to, rounding the car to the passenger side as Jane flipped through her tapes in the center console.</p><p> </p><p>Sliding one into the tape deck, Daria sat down beside her. System of A Downs’ “<em> War? </em>” soon began blasting over the Lebarons surprisingly capable stereo sound system.</p><p> </p><p>Daria glanced over at Jane, the same grin still plastered on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded, hit the ignition and whipped the Lebaron into gear, tearing out of the driveway toward Gaithersburg.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The sub-hour long drive flew by and eventually they spotted The Tank parked by the service entrance of a slightly smaller than expected arena.</p><p> </p><p>The Tanks’ rear double doors were open, Trent and Jesse were sitting in the back, each of them chowing down on a huge submarine sandwich. Jane knocked on the side of the van with a hollow <em> thunk thunk </em> and Trent hopped out, sandwich still in hand to greet the two.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice, you two made it. How did the Lebaron handle?” Trent asked between bites of sub.</p><p> </p><p>“That's a high-performance piece of automotive machinery we're talking about, here” Jane replied half-jokingly.</p><p> </p><p>“It was great. Thanks, Trent” she admitted.</p><p> </p><p>Trent cracked a brief smile, then turned his attention to Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice shirt, Daria” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Trent” Daria added, shuffling her feet and glancing around.</p><p> </p><p>Daria scrambled for something to break the increasingly awkward silence now imposing upon the group. “Say, did you manage to snag a sub for us?” she joked.</p><p> </p><p>Trent perked up, “Actually…”</p><p> </p><p>He quickly ducked back into The Tank and returned with a styrofoam cooler, and upon opening it the sight of a considerable number of sandwiches graced their eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Jane spoke up first “Trent, where did you get what looks like 20 pounds of subs?”.</p><p> </p><p>“Our benefactor had them sent backstage and I’m certainly not one to turn down a hoagie, to be sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria looked at eachother. A sandwich-dispensing benefactor? What in the absolute hell could Trent be talking about? That was a question neither of them had the emotional fortitude to get into at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>On the other hand, their emotional fortitude could be replenished by one of the footlongs Trent was now brandishing in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, don’t mind if I do” Jane said, taking the subs and handing one to Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“When does the show start, Trent?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jesse stuck his head out from the rear of The Tank.</p><p> </p><p>“As soon as we’re done the last sound check, man” he stated. He looked at Trent.</p><p> </p><p>“Sound check.” he repeated.</p><p> </p><p>Trent turned and hopped back into The Tank, again returning but this time with his mic and guitar. “Yeah, we should probably get to it.”</p><p> </p><p>The other members of Mystik Spiral must have already been inside. Trent reached into his pocket and pulled out two passes on lanyards which would, according to him, grant them access to the gated-off front row.</p><p> </p><p>Trent and Jesse locked up The Tank and proceeded into the venue.</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria rounded the opposite side of the building to the main entrance, but not before finding a place to demolish their sandwiches prior to entering.</p><p> </p><p>By the time they made it into the arena, people were steadily filling the available standing room. The sun had begun to set and the surprisingly dim multi-coloured lighting setup inside the venue made for a moody atmosphere.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane made their way to the front of the venue, where there was indeed a vaguely fenced-off area of floor, though there was seemingly no security around to enforce the use of their passes.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The opening act, a disc jockey Trent happened to know by the name of DJ Savidge, was spinning some unexpectedly fresh beats while Mystik Spiral could be seen making final preparations to one side of the stage.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nudged Daria, “This guy’s not bad” she said and started to bounce and step with the music filling the arena.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Might as well cut the body loose, I suppose. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria began to step and lean, mustering up what she wasn’t sure constituted “dance moves”, either way there were now enough people packed in behind her that she certainly didn’t stand out too much.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, DJ Savidge spun his music down and introduced Mystik Spiral.</p><p> </p><p>“Give it up for ya boys, ya men, ya angels of rock! Mystik Spiral!” he shouted into the mic, stepping aside and allowing them to take full stage presence.</p><p> </p><p>Daria leaned in toward Jane, “Angels of rock? Did they agree to be introduced like that?” she questioned.</p><p> </p><p>Jane scrunched her nose and shrugged, then threw her hands up and hollered as Spiral began the first song in their set. Daria put her hands up as well, trying to be as supportive of a fan as she could.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Just a few more songs into their set, the crowd was becoming unusually raucous. Trent and Jesse had begun throwing unopened beers into the audience at some point. <em> Surely a bylaw violation of some kind </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Her cynicism about this “artistic choice” soon waned as someone handed her one of the aforementioned beers.</p><p> </p><p>She stared at the can in her hand for a moment before looking up to see the person who handed it to her, a scruffy but certainly not unattractive man in a torn Grateful Dead hoodie.</p><p> </p><p>He motioned a “cheers” with his own drink, and looked at Daria expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>She gulped, justified it with <em> I didn’t drive us here </em>and she cracked the tab.</p><p> </p><p>She took a deep swig of the golden liquid, now close to room temperature.</p><p> </p><p>Daria bit her lip, trying not to make a face at the bitter aftertaste now pervading her mouth. Glancing over her shoulder to where Jane was standing, she saw her friend thoroughly engaged in the beginnings of a mosh pit.</p><p> </p><p>She turned back to the man now attempting to dance next to her. Daria steeled her nerves and slugged another considerable portion of her drink. Her face began to feel flushed, and a slight tingle down her spine started to loosen her up.</p><p> </p><p>Pumping her fist to the music, she danced closer to the Deadhead beside her, and sooner than she expected her drink was finished.</p><p> </p><p>However, upon shaking the empty can, the same man handed her another and smiled.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, what the hell.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria cracked it and this time she went in on it, polishing off half the can in one go. She noticed this time it went down considerably easier.</p><p> </p><p>She danced closer to the Deadhead, and he closed into her personal space. She didn’t particularly mind as the guy had been seemingly upbeat, and supplied her with free drinks.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, he took her hand and started working their way toward the edge of the crowd. She finished her second drink as they did, but this time she took a closer look at the can in her hand. It read 8.6%, and she could feel it.</p><p> </p><p>She felt good.</p><p> </p><p>As they approached the edge of the crowd, he directed her to a small enclave between the large cement bleachers.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, what's your name?” the hoodied man asked in the slightly quieter area of the venue.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria, yours?” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re hot, Daria” he said bluntly.</p><p> </p><p>Darias’ eyes widened and her face flushed even more deeply than it already had been. She noticed his features, he was an attractive guy but she probably wouldn't spring for “hot”.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, I don’t really—” he cut her off “you think I’m hot?” he said.</p><p> </p><p>Daria glanced at her feet. “Uh I th-think you might…” she trailed off and he got closer, now his arms were now around her and his face was drawing closer to hers.</p><p> </p><p>She could smell the liquor on his breath, and his pointed advances made her knees shake. She didn’t want whatever this guy was getting at.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Uh oh. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The Deadhead slid a hand up the back of her shirt, grasping for her bra clasp.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled back quickly, “H-Hey quit it, dude—” he cut her off again “Come on, it's not a big deal”.</p><p> </p><p>The man grabbed the back of her head and tried to kiss her. She pushed back against his chest, “Hey!” she yelped, adrenaline prickled in her extremities as her heart pounded fight-or-flight signals through her body.</p><p> </p><p>Daria gasped, in the same moment Jane materialized from the crowd behind the man.</p><p> </p><p>She tapped his shoulder, and when he turned around she pivoted on her heel, delivering a punch to his trachea with such force it nearly shattered her hand. The man choked on ragged half-breaths and blood as his eyes bulged and he clawed at his neck.</p><p> </p><p>Janes’ opposite hand loaded with a set of brass knuckles then impacted the man's chin, the sickening sound of his jaw fracturing made Daria cover her ears reflexively.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He fell to the ground in a heap, a hideous groan escaping his crushed windpipe. Jane immediately stepped over him and placed her hands on Darias shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Daria simply stared at her, searching for words. The grimace on Jane's face betrayed the pain in her hand she was attempting to ignore.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria, are you okay?” Jane asked, her voice stern but wavering.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine… now” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded, turned around and glared down at the man on the ground. She began patting him down, taking his wallet, keys, cell phone and his shoes.</p><p> </p><p>Daria watched, and placed a hand on Jane's arm. “Jane, I really don’t think we should rob him” she implored nervously.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked back at Daria and said simply “I’m not”.</p><p> </p><p>She dialed 9-1-1 on his cellphone and tossed it onto his still motionless body. She took Darias hand and they made their way to the exit. Before leaving, Jane dumped his wallet, keys and shoes into an unassuming dumpster outside the arena.</p><p> </p><p>Returning to their car, the sound of sirens edged into their range of hearing.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stared at her knees as they sat in the Lebaron.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry” she said.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria, no.” Jane replied. She placed a hand on Darias knee.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stared down at her Janes reddened knuckles and already bruising lower forearm.</p><p> </p><p>She held back tears, and placed her own hand on Janes’, gently. The sound of sirens was growing steadily louder.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked in the rear view mirror and saw Trent and the rest of Mystik Spiral exiting the arena, followed by what she could only guess were the event organizers. She sat silently.</p><p> </p><p>Trent approached the driver side window of the Lebaron, and Jane looked up at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Janey, man someone called 9-1-1, apparently some guy got fucked up real bad, the venue EMT said he might be in a coma” Trent started.</p><p> </p><p>He paused, noticing the steely expression on her face, and his eyes went to Daria, her head hung, saying nothing. He next noticed the blood smeared brass knuckles laying on the dashboard.</p><p> </p><p>“Janey… what happened” Trent stated quietly. It didn’t really sound like a question.</p><p> </p><p>“I took out the trash.” she replied distantly, starting the Lebaron and putting it in gear.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you at home, Trent. Thanks for the show, it was your best one yet” Jane added.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled out just as emergency services began to arrive.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>As the two approached Lawndale, Daria broke the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Jane” she said shrinkingly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane glanced over at her, nodding. She wasn’t going to press Daria on what happened.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked back at her. “How did you know something… was going to happen?” she asked simply.</p><p> </p><p>Jane heaved a shaky sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw that guy snagging beers for you and I really didn’t think he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart, so I kept an eye on things” she explained.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not your mom, but you are my best friend after all and I care. A lot.” she continued.</p><p> </p><p>Darias dour expression gave way to a weak smile, and she gripped Jane's hand tighter, accidentally, before loosening her grip after Jane audibly grunted.</p><p> </p><p>Jane reached up to the dashboard, grasping the brass knuckles and threw them out the window into the darkened woods rushing by. Daria watched them disappear as they continued down the highway.</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you have brass knuckles, Jane?” Daria asked, concern evident in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>Jane brushed aside the stray hair in her face. Clearing her throat she replied “Insurance policy. They make a good equalizer”.</p><p> </p><p>She glanced in the rear view mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“The mark those things leave is unmistakable, for that reason they’re single use only.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria clenched her jaw as the sounds that man made rang in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>Jane gripped the steering wheel tighter. She kept her eyes on the road and asked again, “Are you sure you’re alright?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria gave a meek “Yes, I’m sure. Can we just get back to your place?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane leaned harder on the accelerator and soon they arrived back at the Lane residence.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Entering the house, Penny was nowhere to be seen. The two kicked their shoes off, and Daria stated simply “I need to go to bed”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane went upstairs to her room, pulling out some clean night clothes Daria could wear. She stopped by the bathroom, and dug through the medicine cabinet for pain meds. Retrieving the bottle, she saw they were expired but it was better than nothing.</p><p> </p><p>She popped two, and looked at her hand, rubbing it gently.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stared, her eyes stuck and her mind wandering.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What if something happened to her? What then? Fuck. Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tears rolled off of her cheeks and landed on her injured hand. She rubbed them away and more fell. She wiped her eyes and straightened up with a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>She left the bathroom, and looked for Daria in the entryway, carrying the night clothes with her.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria?” she called out.</p><p> </p><p>She went back upstairs, and when she passed her room she saw Daria was there, seemingly already fast asleep in her bed. Jane entered, and dug around in the closet for a sleeping bag.</p><p> </p><p>She rolled it out and crawled into it, favoring her hand as she moved.</p><p> </p><p>Shortly thereafter, as the embrace of sleep began to weigh her eyelids down, she felt a nudge.</p><p> </p><p>She rolled over and saw the silhouette of Daria standing over her amid the relative darkness of her bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria? Is everything okay?” Jane asked, squinting.</p><p> </p><p>Daria was quiet for a moment. “Would you mind?” she finally asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Would I..?” Jane was momentarily confused, and observed Daria retreat back into the bed, holding the blankets up.</p><p> </p><p>A jolt of anxiety shot through Janes body. “Oh, oh no it’s fine” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane extricated herself from her musty sleeping bag and carefully crawled into her own bed beside Daria. She settled in, and was desperately unsure of what to do with her hands.</p><p> </p><p>Daria curled up beside her, resting her head on Jane's shoulder. Jane repositioned her arm so Darias head was against her chest, and she placed her free arm over her. The two quickly fell asleep, the morning was a far off concern for them. Their embrace was warm, reassuring, and it was all either of them needed right now.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Binary Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Part 2. Chapters are going to be shorter and slightly more frequent from here on out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The light of the next mornings’ sun poured in through Janes bedroom window. The two lay still, Jane forming the larger kitchen utensil to Darias smaller kitchen utensil, a position neither of them realised could be so comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>They knew this because they were both awake, and both unaware they were each pretending to be asleep. This may have been due to each of them being so enormously comfortable, or because they didn’t want to address the situation they currently found themselves in.</p><p> </p><p>At last, the urge to go to the bathroom overcame Jane and she carefully rolled over, away from Daria and sat up in her bed.</p><p> </p><p>Her hand was tender, but felt and looked slightly less grotesque than the night before. She rose out of bed slowly, making her way out of the room and into the hallway. After finishing with the washroom, she groggily went downstairs.</p><p> </p><p>As she entered the kitchen, she observed Penny and Trent sitting at the kitchen table together.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, this is unexpected” she commented, gesturing broadly to the both of her siblings.</p><p> </p><p>They both looked up at her, wordlessly, concern creasing their faces.</p><p> </p><p>“Janey, we gotta talk about what happened last night” Trent said.</p><p> </p><p>Penny continued, “It was on the radio this morning Jane, the police are calling what happened attempted murder, and whoever did it is wanted” she explained.</p><p> </p><p>Jane remained silent.</p><p> </p><p>“That guy, he probably isn’t going to breathe on his own again” Trent added.</p><p> </p><p>Jane poured herself a glass of water as they spoke.</p><p> </p><p>Penny glanced at Trent, then back to Jane. “Jane, this is serious, what happened?” she pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>Jane set her glass of water down, clearing her throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Two things. One, that guy attacked Daria, tried to rape her. Him being in the hospital and not a bodybag is only because I showed up in time to stop whatever was about to happen.” she stated matter-of-factly.</p><p> </p><p>Trent and Penny looked at eachother in silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Two, we were in a blind spot between security cameras and I got rid of anything that might implicate myself or Daria” Jane continued, taking another sip of water.</p><p> </p><p>“So, did they mention any of that on the radio, or is this breaking news brought to you by Jane Lane?” she concluded.</p><p> </p><p>Trent rubbed his face with his hands and Penny bit her nails.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, I get it. You’re going to have to lay low for a while at least until the heat dies down. Gaitherburg is almost an hour away and apparently you got out of there before the cops arrived so you shouldn’t have to worry too much” Penny stated.</p><p> </p><p>“That said, I would strongly suggest you not make a habit of crushing windpipes and shattering jaws” Trent added sardonically.</p><p> </p><p>Jane held up her injured hand for them to see.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t plan on it” she said.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Post sibling-conversational hour, Jane returned to her room where Daria was no longer pretending to be asleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, you” Jane said in as cheerful of a tone as she could muster.</p><p> </p><p>She sat down on the bed beside Daria and sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hows your hand?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Better, at least a little” Jane replied, clenching and unclenching her fist.</p><p> </p><p>Daria closed her eyes and ran her hands through her hair a few times before looking up, “We probably shouldn’t talk about what happened at the concert last night, for all of our sakes” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded, “I agree”.</p><p> </p><p>She deliberately didn’t mention the incident had made it onto the radio, or the present condition of the man she almost killed.</p><p> </p><p>Daria yawned, “I didn’t expect the best part of my night to end up being after the concert” she said sleepily.</p><p> </p><p>Jane glanced over at her.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a fantastic big spoon.” she said with a smirk.</p><p><br/>
The heat in Janes face could have put her mothers kiln out of commission.</p><p> </p><p>“Morgendorffer!” she squeaked, burying her face in her hands.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria opened her front door quietly as Jane drove off. She placed her things by the door and attempted to creep up the stairs, in a bid to avoid conversation. She came face to face with her sister, who was coming in the opposite direction.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Great. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Daria. How was the Mystik Spiral concert?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I want to scream forever. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Quinn. It was fine, thank you for asking.” Daria replied.</p><p><br/>
She then sidestepped Quinn and continued up the stairs to her bedroom. Quinn turned and watched her go. </p><p> </p><p>“Wet. Blanket.” she commented under her breath, unaware of the events that had just transpired.</p><p> </p><p>Daria entered her room, closing the door behind her. She pressed her back against it, sliding down onto the floor. <em> I’m alright. </em></p><p> </p><p>She looked up to the ceiling, emotions roiling in her head. She was less upset about the scumbag that tried to force himself on her than concerned about Janes’ reaction. Daria had never seen that type of explosive physical aggression from her.</p><p> </p><p>The lack of hesitation in Janes actions and disregard for possible consequences just to save her from that situation confused Daria. Nobody had ever gone to bat for her like that, ever. <em> Not that I have ever been in a situation quite like that before. </em></p><p> </p><p>The point stood. She truly appreciated what Jane did, ugly as it was. <em> She cares about me. A lot. She said it. </em></p><p> </p><p>Those words echoed in her head, drowning out the agonal sounds of the hoodie-clad man on the ground that still pervaded her ears long after the fact.</p><p> </p><p><em> I care about you too, Jane. A lot. </em>She probably didn’t show it. Scratch that, she knew she didn’t show it. How could she, she was Daria after all.</p><p> </p><p><em> That’s not a good enough excuse, </em>she admonished herself silently.</p><p> </p><p>Daria wanted to show Jane she cared as much as she did. She didn’t necessarily owe it to her per se, but she didn’t have to. Daria had spent her life never truly feeling compelled to show deep affection for anyone, but that was shifting.</p><p> </p><p>She could tell it was shifting by the furious drumbeat of the butterflies in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is going to be tricky. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The condition of Janes’ hand had improved quickly. Ice, flexor exercises and pain meds had made sure of it. The sooner the better, made it less likely someone would notice and ask questions.</p><p> </p><p>She especially didn’t want to explain the injury to Arnie.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stretched, alone, in her basement. She stood in track shorts and a fitted sports bra, walkman clipped to her waistband. The workout routines Arnie had prescribed between classes had been paying considerable dividends.</p><p> </p><p>Turning her gaze to the old full-length mirror leaning against the wall to her right, she examined the now noticeable muscle definition in her arms, back, chest and lower abdomen.</p><p> </p><p>Already having excellent lower body strength from running, the body-building workouts she had been embarking on had increased her overall strength considerably. Though she was still lean by nature, the increased muscle mass made her feel sturdy. Powerful.</p><p> </p><p>She retrieved the hand wraps from her pocket and once again wrapped her knuckles methodically. Jane ensured her formerly injured hand was extra well-secured.</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts of the concert still crept into her mind, as it did now, though it was not that long ago. She felt heat rising from deep in her chest.</p><p> </p><p>Jane squared up with the heavy bag hanging in front of her. Trent had pulled it out of storage and installed it when he heard she was taking Krav Maga.</p><p> </p><p>Raising her hands to face height, she bounced forward and back, working herself up. She gritted her teeth and twisted into a devastating straight-legged kick, the impact pealing out like a gunshot in the spacious concrete basement.</p><p> </p><p>She followed this up with a series of jabs, paying close attention to the angle of her wrists as the punches landed as to not re-injure herself.</p><p> </p><p>Closing the distance between her and the equipment, she continued the assault as her mind began to drift. She drove her elbows into the sides of the bag with catastrophic intensity, her focus now shifted to the night she spent with Daria in her arms.</p><p> </p><p>She recalled the scent of her best friend as they lay there in her bed, olfactory memory bringing the smell to her nose even now as her chest heaved. Why was she still thinking about it?</p><p> </p><p>Jane paused, brow furrowed, tightening her ponytail and adjusting her headphones. Increasing the volume.<em> "Wait and Bleed" </em>beat at her eardrums as she took position once more.</p><p> </p><p>She placed her hands on either side of the bag, thrusting alternating knees into it, grunting as she braced against the shock.</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to hold Daria again. It was an eclipsing need to be closer to her and this new, sharp feeling deeply perplexed her.</p><p> </p><p>Tensing her jaw, she spun around, backhanding the bag with a loud <em> crack. </em> Pausing again to adjust her sports bra, she paced around the empty basement.</p><p> </p><p>Motes of dust suspended in light slowly sunk to the floor around her, she turned to the mirror once again, wiping the beading sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.</p><p> </p><p>What should she do? What could she do? Even the most paltry attempt to reach Daria on an emotional level was a Herculean task. She felt a lump in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>Jane rubbed the back of her neck, closing her eyes. Suddenly lashing out, her fist impacted the top half of the heavy bag with her entire weight behind it; causing the rusted chain affixing it to the ceiling to give out.</p><p> </p><p>The bag fell to the floor with an enormous <em> whud. </em> Jane stood over it, staring down at the mass before her. Images of the groaning man crumpled on the arena floor flashed in her mind, and she took her headphones off.</p><p> </p><p>She turned silently on her heel, ascending the steps and closing the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>The dust kicked up by the heavy bags’ fall slowly settled in the now empty basement, reflected faintly in the mirror opposite to it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jake vigorously whipped the meringue in the bowl he held against his apron, strangely engrossed by his need to achieve stiff peaks. As he worked, he glanced up to see Daria enter the kitchen, passing him on her way to the fridge.</p><p> </p><p>He piped up “Well hey, kiddo, how’s it hangin’” he asked, chipper.</p><p> </p><p>Daria rummaged through the fridge, “Slightly to the right” she replied sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“Well alright” Jake replied, “so I was talking to your mom and her and I figured we should all go on a little road trip to Brown” he continued.</p><p> </p><p>Daria closed the fridge door, now holding a mini pepperoni stick. She took a bite, staring blankly at her father.</p><p> </p><p>“You know… to get the lay of the land and maybe check out the apartment?” he urged.</p><p> </p><p>Daria swallowed. “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Jake grinned “Great! We’ll go this weekend” he almost decided, “that is, if your mother is available” he added.</p><p> </p><p>“Jane and I are probably going to room together. Mind if she comes?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jakes look turned to that of confusion. “Oh, um, rooming together? Thats news to me. I suppose thats not a bad idea” he said rubbing his chin, leaving a smear of meringue behind.</p><p> </p><p>“She can tag along if she wants, I guess Quinn will just have to sit between you two” he said, laughing.</p><p> </p><p>Daria grimaced at the thought of being crammed into the back of her parents’ car with Quinn. “Fine.” she sighed.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jane aimed her hot glue gun, placing a dab deftly on the hook of a wire hanger and held it to the earlobe of the mannequin head in front of her until she was satisfied that it was firmly adhered.</p><p> </p><p>She stepped back, taking in the full view of her bizarre sculpture. “Darn” she grumbled to herself. “Forgot to decide what this is supposed to represent”.</p><p> </p><p>Shrugging, she slid a new stick of glue into her gun. At the same time, her cordless phone rang.</p><p> </p><p>“Jane here” she answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey—” Daria began, but was quickly cut off.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch, dammit!” Jane blurted into the receiver as she fumbled the glue gun and its scalding hot tip grazed her fingertip as it fell.</p><p> </p><p>Daria held the phone slightly away from her ear. “If I knew the sound of my voice hurt you so much I would have written a letter” she joked impassively.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah it’s not you, I just got myself with my glue gun. I’m working on a sculpture that really stretches the ‘abstract’ in abstract art” she explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds like my kind of art” Daria quipped, she continued “I actually did call for a reason though, my parents are planning what they called a ‘road trip’ to the Brown campus”.</p><p> </p><p>“I told them we were going to be rooming together and they ended up inviting you” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Janes heart fluttered at the admission Daria made to her parents.</p><p> </p><p>“Upshot is, were crammed into the back of my parents car with Quinn for 6 hours” Daria complained.</p><p><br/>
Jane shrugged, “I’m game” she said bluntly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria silently thanked whatever Gods may or may not be paying attention that she wouldn’t have to endure the weekend with her family alone.</p><p> </p><p>“The hotel is on my parents” Daria said, flipping through the newest publication of Sick Sad World as she talked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane raised her eyebrows, “Hotel?” she questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, my dad doesn’t want to drive interstate at night so were staying at a hotel the night of” Daria explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds like a raw deal” Jane replied as she brushed art sprue from her jacket.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Quinn swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “I don’t know Sandi, I’m thinking cosmetology might be the only tolerable post-secondary available to someone like me” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Sandi blew on her nails gently, examining her paint job on the bed next to Quinn.</p><p> </p><p>“What about fashion design?” she asked. “You are part of the fashion club, after all”.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn stuffed cotton balls between her toes, shaking her bottle of nail polish as she did.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know, but who’s to say I couldn’t dish out hot fashion tips while doing peoples makeup, right?” she mused.</p><p> </p><p>Sandi shrugged exaggeratedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, I suppose. Does Brown even have a cosmetology program? I mean, have you checked?” Sandi asked.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn applied the first layer of polish to her nails. “I’m not sure, I guess I will find out this weekend when we go” she admitted.</p><p> </p><p>Sandi held her hands out in front of her, eyeing her cuticles closely, “Isn’t the acceptance rate to Brown like 7% or something crazy like that” she asked, half-interested.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn made a face, sighing. “I don’t know Sandi, but if Jane and my sister can get accepted by accident, I think I have a shot” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Raising an eyebrow, Sandi looked around for the bottle of clear coat that had gotten away from her. “I guess” she admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Who knows, maybe a local cosmetology program would be better. The 6 hour drive is yuck anyway” Quinn reneged.</p><p> </p><p>“Yuck” Sandi agreed. “When are you leaving?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow, were spending the night there. Mom and dad got us rooms at Hotel Providence, its like super fancy apparently” Quinn gushed.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s cool” Sandi admitted.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn wiggled her toes to adjust her cotton balls. “I’ll bring back souvenirs from the campus gift shop for the fashion club.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandi cracked a smile. “Cool.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Trent leaned against Janes doorframe as she packed. “Don’t forget spare underwear” he stated flatly. “You never know”.</p><p> </p><p>“Sound advice Trent, thanks” Jane sputtered sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“You got any cash for the trip?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded, “Enough”.</p><p> </p><p>She placed her sketchbook and pencils in her suitcase. She knew Brown had an extremely scenic campus, and wanted to do some impression work while she was there.</p><p> </p><p>Trent was quiet for a moment, before asking “How’s the hand?”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stopped what she was doing briefly.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, Trent. It’s fine.” she replied, attempting to suppress the agitation the question caused her.</p><p> </p><p>“Good” he said. “You really put yourself on the ropes for her you know, Janey” Trent continued.</p><p> </p><p>Jane turned and looked at him, her eyes deadly serious.</p><p> </p><p>“What else could I do?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Trent stood up straight, saying “I’m not saying you went too far. That guy deserved what he got for going after Daria like that. What I am saying is that you have never stuck your neck out for anyone like that, ever”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane made eye contact with Trent, the kind that would give a penguin chills.</p><p> </p><p>“Good thing she’s not just anyone, then” Jane stated.</p><p> </p><p>Trent folded his arms, smirking.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. I see how it is” he said. Then took his leave.</p><p> </p><p>Jane watched him leave.</p><p> </p><p>He saw how it was? What was that supposed to mean? Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She glanced over at her closet.</p><p> </p><p>Approaching it, she rummaged around for an extra pair of clean underwear tossing them into her suitcase and closing the lid.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Jake hefted his overnight bag, placing it in the trunk of his car, followed by Helens, Quinns, and Darias’. He turned around, gesturing toward Jane for her bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks Mr. Morgendorffer, I got it” she said, laying her bag alongside the others.</p><p> </p><p>Jake threw the trunk closed, declaring “It’s time to hit the road!”.</p><p> </p><p>The four women filed into the car.</p><p> </p><p>Helen took the front passenger seat, and Quinn predicted what seating predicament she was about to find herself in.</p><p> </p><p>Holding up a fist, she looked at Daria and stated “Rock, paper, scissors for a window seat?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked at her fist, then got in the car wordlessly, placing herself behind her mother.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn watched her go, saying “Seriously?”.</p><p> </p><p>She turned, holding her fist out to Jane.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry hon” Jane said with a shrug, motioning to the middle seat.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn placed her hands on her hips, “<b>FINE.</b>” she belted before conceding to riding bitch.</p><p> </p><p>“Calm, sweetie, calm.” Helen said as she rolled her eyes.</p><p><br/>
Jane proceeded to buckle herself in beside Quinn.</p><p> </p><p>“Lets go!” Jake shouted, placing the car in gear and heading for the I-95, committed to the coming six hour long drive to Rhode Island.</p><p> </p><p>The five settled in, knowing it would be almost dark by the time they arrived at the hotel. Daria and Jane glanced at eachother, Jane smiled and Daria raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips in resignation.</p><p> </p><p>Less than 20 minutes into the drive, Quinn piped up with “Can we stop in New York City on our way, please please please please?” she stammered.</p><p> </p><p>Jake looked at Helen with pleading eyes, and Helen responded for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry honey, but no. We will take you shopping in SoHo for your highschool graduation, how about that?” she bargained, mostly to avoid Quinn whining in confined space.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay!” Quinn chimed, placated.</p><p> </p><p>As they sat there, Jake attempted to make the trip as smooth as possible by weaving in and out of lanes only minimally. His fervid manner of driving didn’t lend itself well to a large number of passengers.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane passively gripped the handlebars on the ceiling, though Quinn was left to fend for herself. She braced against Jane, and as she did her gaze fell on Janes arm, pressed up against her.</p><p> </p><p>“Take a picture, it will be worth money” Jane said, unamused.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn tilted her head toward her, “Have you been working out?” she questioned.</p><p> </p><p>Daria glanced over momentarily.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Jane replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Thats cool I guess” Quinn said almost dismissively.</p><p> </p><p>Daria kept her eyes fixed on the window to her right. <em> Huh. </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Some time later, after not a few pit stops and the battle that is traffic in Philly and the outskirts of the Big Apple, the group pulled up to Hotel Providence, cruising into the parking lot.</p><p> </p><p>Jake stepped out, cracking his back as he stood on his tip-toes, making a face as he did.</p><p> </p><p>“Good lord, my poor back” he complained, rubbing it. “... I wonder if they offer massages here” he mused.</p><p> </p><p>Helen stretched her thighs and hamstrings and agreed, “Oh, that would be just the thing, Jakey”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria rolled her eyes and Quinn swung her head in every direction, looking for a big city boutique or department store. Jane nudged Daria and the two set about admiring the late-summer New England scenery. </p><p> </p><p>Daria placed her hands on her hips, “Wow.” she piped up.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh now this I could get used to” Jane said, bringing a hand to her chin and gesturing to the old cityscape around them.</p><p> </p><p>“Bags!” Jake yelled from the other side of the car, popping the trunk and rushing to it.</p><p> </p><p>He distributed their overnight luggage and they made for the Hotel reception desk.</p><p> </p><p>Approaching the concierge desk, Helen grabbed the attention of one of the employees stating “Reservations for the Morgendorffer party.”</p><p> </p><p>“Any major credit card is accepted, Ma’am” he explained, and Jake filed his information.</p><p> </p><p>The concierge placed three keys on the marbled counter in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>The room number of the third key, Jane and Darias’, was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, that is not the room we booked” Helen said, glancing at Jake.</p><p> </p><p>The concierge explained to the party “Apologies, the room was accidentally double booked, we have moved your reservation to an upgraded suite at no expense to you”.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Quinn glared at Jane and Daria as they smirked at eachother.</p><p> </p><p>Daria savored the news. <em> Score </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Helen and Jake ensured things were settled up before they proceeded to each of their respective rooms.</p><p> </p><p>Jake motioned to the group before they parted ways “Let’s say we meet up here at 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning”, he insisted.</p><p> </p><p>There was a collective groan from the four women, and eventually reluctant agreement.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“304, should be straight ahead on our right” Jane said as they approached the room.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, they arrived in front of the door, and Daria unlocked it.</p><p> </p><p>Their eyebrows raised and their jaws dropped when upon entering the suite they were inadvertently upgraded to.</p><p> </p><p>Couches, a fireplace, kitchenette, a flat screen TV, and a hot tub in the corner of the room to cap it all off.</p><p> </p><p>The two marveled, giddy at the sight.</p><p> </p><p>Jane suddenly sobered, grabbing Darias’ sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>“One bed.” she said, pointing.</p><p> </p><p>Daria cast her eyes to the opposite corner of the room. There was indeed only one bed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Pop goes the weasel. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The two entered, setting their bags down and getting acquainted with their accommodation for the night.</p><p> </p><p>Jane whistled, approaching the sideboard that stood against one wall.</p><p> </p><p>“What have we here?” she said, gesturing toward the silver tray sitting in front of her, which held a small bowl of chocolates, flowers, a bottle of champagne and two glasses.</p><p> </p><p>Picking up a small white card, she read aloud the calligraphy on its face “Complimentary”.</p><p> </p><p>“Well this place has my full endorsement.” Daria chimed in, hanging her jacket on the rack to her left in the entryway.</p><p> </p><p>Jane retrieved her suitcase from where she had placed it, rummaging through it for her pencils. She produced them from the luggage and slid her sketchbook from its pouch.</p><p> </p><p>She plopped herself down in the recliner opposite the bed. As she began to sketch the room Daria approached the TV, turning it on.</p><p> </p><p>The Hotel Providence in-room service channel appeared on the screen, and she quickly changed the channel. After some browsing, stopped on an episode of Sick Sad World. “Donate a million soda can tabs, get a free wheelchair? Find out how next on SICK SAD WORLD!” the voice over urged.</p><p> </p><p>Jane glanced up from her sketch. “If you drink enough soda to donate a million can tabs, you will probably end up needing that wheelchair” she snarked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stifled a groan, switching the channel to MTV, kicking off her boots and crawling onto the enormous Cali-King bed that stood before her.</p><p> </p><p>“I never knew I needed a bed the size of a football pitch until now” she stated.</p><p> </p><p>Jane continued sketching, her face scrunching up as she wrestled with perspective lines.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh I am going to sleep so damn hard in that thing” she added, not taking her eyes off the page.</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised her head, looking longingly at the hot tub.</p><p> </p><p>Placing her sketchbook down and rubbing her neck, Jane again glanced over at the silver tray on the sideboard.</p><p> </p><p>Daria noticed her eyeing the freebies that had been laid out in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, it would be a waste, considering this room was a free upgrade and all” Daria mused quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane hopped up, striding over to the arrangement of items. “Now were talkin’” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sat up, and Jane removed the wire cage securing the champagne bottles cork in place. With a twist and pull, the bottle produced a soft hiss as Jane removed the cork under control.</p><p> </p><p>“What no pop?” Daria joked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged “Waste not want not” she replied, carefully filling both crystal champagne flutes on the table. Handing one to Daria, she raised her glass.</p><p> </p><p>“To college, and free stuff.” Jane toasted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll drink to that” Daria agreed, their glasses producing a crystalline chime as they clinked them together in unison.</p><p> </p><p>They each took a sip, Jane grimaced, “Woof.”</p><p> </p><p>“If this is what high society tastes like then I’m probably not cut out for it” Daria said, squinting at the beverage in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>Jane returned to her seat, placing the glass down on the end table beside her.</p><p> </p><p>“Predictions for the tour tomorrow?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm…” Daria rubbed her chin as she pondered.</p><p> </p><p>She piped up, “Quinn will get lost on campus, dad will contemplate going back to school and my mom will end up talking him out of it” she predicted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take those odds” Jane replied, smirking.</p><p> </p><p>She resumed sketching, as Daria reclined on the bed, glass in hand. Realising she had been tracing the same few lines over and over, distracted by her friend, she sighed. Picking up her drink off the nightstand and exhaling sharply, she shot the remainder.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stood up, approaching the bottle and poured herself another glass. Daria turned to her, stating casually “Going for broke, huh?”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Its growing on me” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Swirling the drink in her hand, she sauntered over to the jacuzzi. Lowering her eyes to its interior, she noticed the considerable number of jets it contained.</p><p> </p><p>Jane straightened up, declaring “I need to get in on this action.”</p><p> </p><p>“What action?” Daria said, sitting up.</p><p> </p><p>“The freakin’ private jacuzzi we happen to have right here, obviously” Jane explained.</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised her eyebrows, tilting her head in confusion. “You seriously packed a bathing suit? Thats some preparation” she quipped.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shook her head, “Not a bathing suit, but something that will work just as well in a pinch” she said, approaching her suitcase.</p><p> </p><p>Rifling through it, she produced the spare pair of panties Trent had convinced her to pack. Twirling the garment on one finger, she raised an eyebrow. “Good enough”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria guffawed before finishing the rest of her champagne. “Are you serious?” she questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“As a heart attack” Jane replied turning the jacuzzi faucet on, hot, and hung her jacket up beside Darias’. She then proceeded into the bathroom, the door closing softly behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stared at the bathroom door.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What am I about to bear witness to? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She felt heat rising in her chest, it worked its way up her neck and coloring her face beet red, she could tell. Daria sprung out of bed, reaching for the bottle of champagne and poured herself a second round.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Liquid courage, don’t fail me now. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Fumbling with the remote, Quinn switched on her rooms’ television set and was greeted with the room service menu, rotating through various items and times of day.</p><p><br/>
“Don’t mind if I do...” she said to herself, eyeing the Lobster Thermidor menu listing that was accompanied by an eyecatching picture.</p><p> </p><p>Picking up the hotel extension directory from her night stand, she thumbed through the brochure for the after-hours room service number. Shortly, she found it and reached for the phone.</p><p> </p><p>It rang before she had even lifted the receiver.</p><p> </p><p>She picked up, “Umm, hello?” she answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Quinn, its your mother” Helen said from the other end.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn shook her head, confused. “What’s up?”.</p><p> </p><p>“I just want to call and say I hope you’re not thinking of ordering room service” Helen explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Room service? No, no of course not Mother” she fibbed.</p><p> </p><p>Helen paused briefly, stating simply “Alright then. Have a good sleep, we’ll see you in the morning”.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight.” Quinn replied despondently.</p><p> </p><p>Hanging up, she folded her arms and grumbled as the image of the Lobster Thermidor taunted her from across the TV set across the room.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane rubbed her eyes, placing her hands on the bathroom counter, staring at herself in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>She put herself in this position, for some reason, and wasn’t about to back out. She didn’t feel like she was overstepping any boundary. Just girls being chicks, right? After all, Jane had known Daria for almost 3 years.</p><p> </p><p>Stop. What was she trying to justify to herself? Why the mental gymnastics? Something was afoot. Her heart was beating out of her chest over whatever desire was knocking at her subconscious.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Screw it” she said to herself, quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stripped down, save her v-neck, placed her clothes on the counter and stepped into her emergency underwear. She took a gulp of air, steeling herself.</p><p> </p><p>She gripped the doorknob, twisting and pushing as she re-entered the hotel room proper.</p><p> </p><p>Daria was still on the bed, clasping her drink with both hands.</p><p> </p><p>Jane strode over to the now filled Jacuzzi wordlessly, flicking the jet switch on the wall and turning the water off.</p><p> </p><p>Facing away from Daria, toward the tub, she gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off over her head. Her bare, sinewy back now exposed.</p><p> </p><p>Daria placed a hand over her mouth and stared at her glass.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stepped into the jacuzzi, lowering herself in carefully up to her shoulders before turning toward Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“This is, and I can’t stress this enough, the shit” Jane declared, smirking at Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Jane closed her eyes and sighed. It seriously was fantastic. The plethora of jets massaged her entire body gently, and threatened to put her to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Daria stood up, placing her glass on the night stand beside her.</p><p> </p><p>She quickly entered the bathroom and closed the door.</p><p> </p><p>Jane relaxed quietly, wondering if her friend was about to join her.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sat on the closed toilet lid, placing her hands on her head. <em> Should I? </em></p><p> </p><p>The image of Janes exposed back and panty-clad rear flashed in her head and sent a jolt through her from head to toe.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria bit her lip. She stood, kicking out of her skirt and pulling her bra off from under her shirt. She placed her glasses on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>She exited the bathroom, approaching the jacuzzi. </p><p> </p><p>MTV was airing one of Red Hot Chili Peppers new singles from earlier that summer, “<em> Californication”. </em></p><p> </p><p>Jane, eyes still closed, grunted her approval at the music that now filled the room.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Daria stepped up to the tub. Jane glanced over to her.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling her shirt off, she stepped into the tub opposite her friend. Breasts exposed, Janes’ wide-eyed expression betrayed her otherwise carefully constructed composure.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sank slowly into the water, pulling her hair back over the side of the tub so as to not soak it. Eyes closed, she said simply “When you’re right, you’re right. This is in fact the shit”.</p><p> </p><p>Jane slammed her eyes shut and pushed the lump in her throat down.</p><p> </p><p>Daria was quiet for a time, relishing the heat and silky smooth water jets that enveloped her and her friend.</p><p> </p><p>Under the surface of the water, Jane was keenly aware of the position of her legs, so as to not encroach on Darias’ personal space. Daria was of the same disposition. A few minutes later, Janes’ eyes popped open.</p><p> </p><p>She shifted in her spot, declaring “Champagne break”.</p><p><br/>
Jane stood up quickly, water streaming off her exposed shoulders and chest.</p><p> </p><p>Daria didn’t bother trying not to look. “You weren’t kidding about working out, huh?” she observed.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stepped out of the tub, retrieving each of their glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” she said point-blank.</p><p> </p><p>Daria watched her pour the remainder of the bottle, splitting it between the two champagne flutes.</p><p> </p><p>She handed one to Daria, keeping the other for herself and stepped back into the tub.</p><p> </p><p>Both Jane and Daria were now thoroughly buzzed.</p><p> </p><p>As Daria relaxed, Janes’ foot grazed her thigh. The sensation caused goosebumps on the nape of her neck.</p><p> </p><p>Jane noticed Darias’ subtle reaction to the contact, furrowing her brow slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, the water might be nicer on this side of the tub” Jane sheepishly suggested.</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised her eyebrows, steadying herself. “You think?” she asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shifted slightly. “Might as well find out for yourself, right?” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>Daria gulped the last of her champagne, as did Jane. They set their glasses on the landing beside the jacuzzi.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling her weight forward, Daria made the journey across the tub, and found herself taking a seat in Janes’ lap.</p><p> </p><p>It was oddly comfortable, however, upon leaning back she felt Janes’ breasts press gently against her exposed back. Darias' face flushed. <em> Oh my god. </em></p><p> </p><p>Janes’ heart was pounding, the situation seemed surreal beyond surreal. The need to be close to Daria made her brain foggy. She shook her head slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Not bad, huh? Something about these jets” she said absently.</p><p> </p><p>“Its… yeah, its great” Daria replied, settling back even more, acutely aware of the fact Janes’ nipples were now erect, pressing into her back with renewed intensity.</p><p> </p><p>Darias’ breath caught in her chest. She turned around, slowly. Jane had risen out of the water slightly to allow Daria a better position on her side of the tub.</p><p> </p><p>Daria was now sitting perpendicular to Jane. She brought a hand to Janes’ chin, trying to control her heaving chest.</p><p> </p><p>Jane made eye contact with her. “Can I help you, Morgendorffer?” she asked, quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked at Janes lips. “I think so” she said, pressing her own lips to Janes gingerly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane placed an arm around Darias’ waist. The kiss deepened, but only for a moment before the two suddenly pulled apart, nervous laughter gripping them both.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, you know what? I’m getting all pruny” Daria stammered, her heart fluttering painfully.</p><p> </p><p>Jane hopped up, red in the face saying manically “Same same, don’t you just hate that feeling?”, she reached around for two towels hanging on the rack to the rear of the jacuzzi.</p><p> </p><p>The two friends toweled off, retrieving their clothes from the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>They sat at the foot of the bed, clutching their towels, eyes transfixed on MTV.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> The Saga Begins </em>” by Weird Al Yankovic flashed before their eyes. Deliberately engrossed to avoid broaching what just happened, they sat in silence.</p><p> </p><p>Daria broke that silence, finally. “So… You still want to be room mates?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked to her, an unintentionally intense expression plastered on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Daria. I do.” she replied.</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hi, my name is:</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Part 3. As promised, chapter was pushed out quickly and I am aiming for approximately 10 pages/chapter (as opposed to 25/chapter for Parts 1 &amp; 2).</p><p>Part 4 in the works, however time constraints due to work still exist. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Helens’ eyes opened, blurry, and she autonomously reached for the phone on her night stand. Dialing Quinns room number, she waited as the dial tone buzzed in her ear.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn picked up, “Uuughh” she groaned.</p><p> </p><p>Helen took a deep breath “Wake up time, Quinn, it's 7:00” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn rubbed her face and buried it in her pillow, holding the handset at arms length. “Fine, mother,” she conceded, hanging up as she rolled over in bed.</p><p> </p><p>A similar call was placed by Helen to Daria and Jane, ringing their room number just shortly after the crack of dawn.</p><p> </p><p>Daria answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmph” she said, thrashing the blankets off with her legs.</p><p> </p><p>Helens voice, now considerably more awake than her offspring, reached Darias ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Wakey wakey Daria, it's 7:00” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Daria placed a hand on her head, and Jane rolled over in bed to face her.</p><p> </p><p>“Food.” Jane said pointedly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria replied to her mother in words this time, “Please tell me we have breakfast plans”.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh we do.” Helen confirmed. “Reservations at Birch restaurant” she clarified.</p><p> </p><p>Daria mumbled her approval, “Meet you in a few.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane sat up in bed, still shirtless and wrestling with the effects of carbon dioxide absorption of alcohol into her bloodstream.</p><p> </p><p>She stretched with a groan, quickly asserting to Daria “I need double breakfast”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria blinked the sleep from her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Double breakfast?” she questioned sleepily, stretched out beside her friend.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded slowly. “It’s like regular breakfast, but doubled in both size and intensity” she explained.</p><p> </p><p>Daria smirked. “Count me in,” She commiserated.</p><p> </p><p>They took turns showering, retrieving clean clothing from their night bags, soon rendered presentable.</p><p> </p><p>The elevator took them to the ground floor, the smell of the Hotels’ continental breakfast tantalizing them as the brushed brass door slid open before them.</p><p> </p><p>Daria spotted her parents in the outer lobby, her mother was on the phone as Jake fiddled with packaging of a granola bar.</p><p> </p><p>Gnawing at the “tear here” indication on the edge of the wrapper, Jake waved to Daria and Jane vigorously as they exited the elevator, proceeding into the main lobby.</p><p> </p><p>The duo approached, and Daria glanced around in an attempt to spot Quinn.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t see her. Hanging up the phone, Helen fussed with her hair in the lobby mirror as she addressed Daria and Jane. “Well, at least one of my children can stick to a timing”.</p><p> </p><p>Jake defeated the plasticized menace encasing his granola bar and bit into it triumphantly.</p><p> </p><p>At the crack of 7:45 the elevator door soon slid open once again and a less-than-enthused Quinn joined them in the lobby.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, I need food. Also a latte if possible.” She said, locking eyes with her parents while simultaneously ignoring Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning to you, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane nudged Daria and the two smirked at the early-morning mood Quinn seemed to be in.</p><p> </p><p>Jake spoke up, set on outlining the day's itinerary.</p><p> </p><p>“Breakfast at Birch, then over to campus lickity-split. Orientation tour starts at 9:30 sharp.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>Helen nodded her head, backing up Jakes’ plan and adding “After that, you three are free to explore the campus facilities on your own time, to get a feel for the grounds.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure there’ll be time for perusing the gift shop as well,” Jake said, placing his hands on his hips.</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, can’t have modern academia without a hearty dash of wanton consumerism.” She snarked.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, come on Daria lighten up.” Quinn said, rolling her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>She continued, “I told Sandi and the fashion club I would bring them back souvenirs, and that's what I intend to do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, Quinn.” Helen said.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jake had pulled the car around, now parked under the large portico in front of the hotel where he waited patiently as the four women filed into the car, adopting the same seating arrangement as yesterday.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn, seemingly resigned to her position between Jane and Daria was now writing in her journal quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane peered out her window. Her mind repeatedly wandered to the night before, each time it did felt like ice in her veins. Had she taken things too far? She desperately hoped Daria wouldn’t come to resent her for what happened.</p><p> </p><p>She recollected her own musings about trying to reach Daria on an emotional level, a “herculean task” she called it. That proved to be a gross overestimation. That closeness she had been craving essentially fell into her lap, just like that.</p><p> </p><p>Emotional whiplash threatening to turn her painfully empty stomach, Jane rubbed her eyes and glanced past Quinn, laying eyes on Daria for just a moment before averting them back to the cool glass beside her.</p><p> </p><p>On the opposite side of the car, Daria clutched the grab handle above her head. She too stared at the road rushing by, silently. The entire morning, she had been barely able to restrain the kaleidoscope of emotions that raced through her mind.</p><p> </p><p>It caused a lump in her throat, a feeling like her mouth was Pandoras’ box, if she opened it at the wrong time all hell would come charging out at once. The afterimage of that passionate moment she shared with Jane tore through the fog of champagne fizz that obscured the night before.</p><p> </p><p>The thought of placing her own lips against her friends’, the taste of deep scarlet lipstick, Janes’ arm wrapped around her waist. Skin on skin. Daria clenched her fist as her hand started trembling in her lap. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m going fucking crazy. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She snuck a glance at Jane. Their eyes met unexpectedly, and they both looked away instantaneously.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So be it. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The group arrived at the restaurant. It was nice. Very nice, in fact. It was almost certainly the finest dining Jane had ever partaken in. They proceeded through the dining room in the company of their waiter as he showed them to their table.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting down, Jake and Helen gushed about the decor and ambiance of the establishment they had picked for breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“See those beams on the ceiling, Helen? I wonder if those are heartwood…” Jake observed.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, those are just darling. Did you see the matching accent mirrors by the entrance? Absolutely gorgeous.” Helen said.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn, Daria and Jane all stifled groans as the two continued to discuss interior design at length.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, their waiter arrived rescuing them from the conversation. Dispersing the menus and glasses of water wedged with lemon, he addressed the group cordially.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning Ladies and Gentleman, would you care to hear our house specials for the day?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jake perked up, “Absolutely!”.</p><p> </p><p>Helen glanced at the menu before adding “Do tell.”</p><p> </p><p>The waiter obliged, “Three specials this morning, the first is a scrumptious zucchini tarine on open-flame toasted sourdough rye drizzled with warm house-made dijon mustard.”</p><p> </p><p>Helen and Jake kept their attention fixed on the waiter.</p><p> </p><p>“As well, we have a Basque potato and red pepper quiche with shaved prosciutto and imported organic gruyere,” he continued.</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria caught eachother rolling their respective eyes at what they considered to be outrageously pretentious breakfast dishes.</p><p> </p><p>“Lastly but certainly not least, a sublime eggs hussarde with balsamic onion jam and locally sourced cherokee purple tomatoes garnished with coarse Italian sea salt.” The waiter concluded.</p><p> </p><p>He glanced around the table expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane spoke up. “Four eggs over medium, eight strips of crispy bacon, three slices of rye toast buttered, a side bowl of fresh fruit and a cup of medium roast, black. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>The waiter blinked. “Of course, and who will you be splitting that with? I will bring an extra set of flatware.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked at him, raising an eyebrow .“Splitting?”.</p><p> </p><p>The waiter rubbed his hands together, bemused. “Okay then!” he said cheerfully before pivoting to the next order.</p><p> </p><p>Helen and Jake each chose a special, while Quinn decided espresso Belgian waffles with hot mocha ganache and almonds à la carte.</p><p> </p><p>Darias turn came to order, and she simply cocked a thumb in Janes direction stating with a smirk “I’ll have what she's having.”</p><p> </p><p>The waiter confirmed their respective orders and made for the back of the house.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn, Jake and Helen all looked at Daria and her friend.</p><p> </p><p>Jake broke the silence, “Thats’ uh, quite the spread you girls ordered,” he said and laughed half-heartedly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane produced a series of 20 dollar bills from her coat pocket, brandishing them.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, I’ll cover Daria and myself. I wouldn’t hold you accountable for our double breakfast requirements” She explained.</p><p> </p><p>Helen scratched her head. “D- double breakfast?” she asked, visibly confused.</p><p> </p><p>Daria cracked a wry smile. “Well you see, it’s like regular breakfast…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Pressed for time, the group immediately made their way from the restaurant to the Brown University campus.</p><p> </p><p>Managing to find a miracle parking spot on Prospect Street, they filed out of the car and immediately came upon the storied Van Wickle Gates. </p><p> </p><p>Jake excitedly gestured to the impressive monument standing before them and just beyond it, the Brown University Office of the President. “Just get a load of this! Van Wickle Gate, the gorgeous college green! This is great!”</p><p> </p><p>The five proceeded around the block to Page-Robinson Hall, where they would soon find the Registrars’ office. Upon entering, they were greeted by a bubbly administrative assistant.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Page-Robinson Hall, the centrepoint of student orientation!” She sqeaked with what seemed to be a Valley-girl drawl.</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria stepped forward. “So you’re the freshmen, so nice to meet you!” the woman continued, handing them exceptionally hefty informational packages. </p><p> </p><p>Grabbing a handful of folded campus maps from the desk directly behind her, she distributed them to the group. “The orientation tour is beginning shortly, head on down to the vestibule and keep an eye out for a group of students and staff. You can’t miss ‘em!” She explained.</p><p> </p><p>Linking up with the teeming group of freshmen, Daria and Jane stood awkwardly as staff members began handing out name tags.</p><p> </p><p>Looking at the adhesive “Hi, my name is:” tags they held in their hands, Daria nudged Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked over, she noticed Daria was in the process of filling in her own. Sticking it to her jacket, it read “Jane”.</p><p> </p><p>Stifling a snicker, Jane filled hers in “Daria” and affixed it to her own chest.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, an open-air tour bus arrived and the freshmen filed on, taking their seats and waiting for the campus tour to begin. Jake, Helen and Quinn waved to the two friends as they stood maps in hand, intent to keep themselves busy sightseeing while they waited for the return of the freshmen.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After a 90 minute stop-and-go tour of the campus proper, the bus slowed to a halt in the same place it had originally departed from.</p><p> </p><p>As the students exited the vehicle, Daria and Jane each stretched and yawned. Sauntering over to where Jake and Helen stood, the two glanced around quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Quinn?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Her parents swallowed hard and looked at eachother. Jake spoke for them both saying “Well, your mom and I kind of lost her in the fray.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane put a hand over her mouth and looked at Daria who pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p>“Called it” she said, deadpan.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked to Darias parents, “I assume you have already swept the gift shop?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, no.” Helen replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Well there’s your problem.” Daria and Jane said in tandem.</p><p> </p><p>Unfolding their maps, they made for the campus gift shop, keeping their heads on a swivel as they moved, though as a group they were fairly confident they were about to locate the missing sibling.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Too Good to feel Real</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's something for you a bit too good to feel real.</p><p>I split what I have been working on into two parts, opting to get this one out on time rather than finish both parts and release it later.</p><p>Chapter 5 coming soon, trust me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Approaching the campus gift shop after a short walk Jake and Helen hurried inside, however Daria and Jane hung back at the last moment, posting up against the wall next to the double doors.</p><p> </p><p>As they waited for Darias’ parents, Jane nudged her friend.</p><p> </p><p>Casting attention to their immediate left, they watched two dark figures perched on a wrought iron bench, tossing bird seed to a group of rowdy pigeons.</p><p> </p><p>They saw a young man, pale and slender wearing all black everything save for his midnight blue nail polish and matching lipstick.</p><p> </p><p>Sat beside him, an equally pale young woman.</p><p> </p><p>Intermittent streaks of deep red broke the otherwise black veil of hair that hung just past her shoulders, exposed by a tank top partially held together with safety pins.</p><p> </p><p>Their outfits matched almost completely in lack of any primary colours. Or secondary ones, for that matter. </p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria watched as they wordlessly tossed seed to the birds that cooed and scrambled over each other, frantically pecking at the ground where the food fell.</p><p> </p><p>“Want some?” the woman asked suddenly. </p><p> </p><p>She didn't avert her eyes from the flock in front of her as she spoke, holding the bag at arm's length toward Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, my doctor said if I ate any more bird seed I would die.” Daria replied sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>The duo on the bench chuckled, as did Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Glancing at Daria, lips pursed in a thin smile, the man scratched his salt and pepper hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Good one.” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“You two freshmen?” the woman asked, with a disarming smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Jane replied, “Unfortunately.”</p><p> </p><p>“You two don’t look like the type to hang out in front of a campus gift shop.” She said, locking eyes on Daria and Jane.</p><p> </p><p>“Neither do you.” Daria retorted.</p><p> </p><p>The man crushed his now empty seed bag, tossing it into a trash can opposite their bench.</p><p> </p><p>“You got us. We’re just here for the pigeons.” He explained nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>The woman stood and approached Daria and Jane.</p><p> </p><p>“So then what’s your excuse?” she asked calmly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria spoke up, “We’re waiting on my parents who are conducting a search-and-rescue operation inside, the subject of said operation being my sister”.</p><p> </p><p>The peculiar man rose from the bench as well, taking his place beside the equally peculiar woman. Jane noticed they were both quite tall, taller than her 5’6” in fact.</p><p> </p><p>“So one sister is MIA in the gift shop,” he said, turning to Daria.</p><p> </p><p>He motioned to Jane. “Is this another sister?".</p><p> </p><p>Daria shook her head, “No, this is my friend Jane. I’m Daria.”</p><p> </p><p>The man gave an almost curt nod. “Nice to meet you Daria and friend Jane."</p><p> </p><p>The woman introduced them, “The name’s Morgan, but my friends call me Morgue. This is my brother Jace. His friends call him Jace.”</p><p> </p><p>Jace cracked a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“So you guys are freshmen, what are you taking?” Jace asked.</p><p> </p><p>"Comparative Lit.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane crossed her arms replying "Visual Arts."</p><p> </p><p>“You?” Daria questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Masters Biostatistics.” Jace replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Doctorate Linguistics.” Morgue added.</p><p><br/>
All four of Jane and Darias’ eyebrows raised in surprise. Master's and Ph.D? Their apparent age belied the sheer amount of academic experience they each claimed to have.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, shit.” Jane marveled.</p><p> </p><p>“You two are in it for keeps.” Daria commented, equally impressed.</p><p> </p><p>Jace and Morgue glanced at each other. They found themselves taking an immediate shine to the scathingly sardonic freshmen they had stumbled upon.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess you could say that.” Morgue said.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess you could say we’re suckers for punishment.” Jace added derisively.</p><p> </p><p>The doors to the campus gift shop swung open.</p><p> </p><p>Helen, Jake and Quinn burst forth, numerous bags in hand bickering among each other and debating what they should or should not have purchased.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh boy.” Daria said, defeated.</p><p> </p><p>Producing a black Sharpie from her pocket, Morgue grasped Darias’ wrist and hastily scribbled what Daria could only assume was her phone number on her palm.</p><p> </p><p>She cracked a crooked smile saying “Call us when the time is right.”</p><p> </p><p>The mysterious grad students turned and started off in the opposite direction without another word.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Quinn set her various bags down where she stood, cocking her head to watch Jace and Morgue leave.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, who were those people?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Denizens of Brown.” Jane answered.</p><p> </p><p>Jake shrugged, and made a declaration to the group that they should make their way back to the car, load up, and get on with the planned visit to the apartment that he and Helen had found for Daria and by extension, Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Hefting the gift shop haul, the five returned to the car. After discovering there was not going to be enough trunk space for their overnight bags and their newly purchased souvenirs, Daria, Quinn and Jane were resigned to sitting with bags on their laps for the drive.</p><p> </p><p>Jake slapped a hand to his forehead as he rounded the car to the driver side.</p><p> </p><p>“A parking ticket, you have got to be kidding me!” He complained.</p><p> </p><p>Helen glanced around, spotting the “3 HOUR MAXIMUM” sign nearby.</p><p> </p><p>She pointed to it wordlessly and then took her seat in the car. Jake sighed, folding the ticket and placing it in the glovebox.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodbye $35.” He grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Helen turned in her seat, “Ogden Street is in Hope, just a few minutes’ drive north of the campus.”</p><p> </p><p>Quinn looked at her mother, then at Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me again why you two aren’t just living in residence?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me again why we would?” Jane snarked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria chuckled, glad Jane had as little interest in immersing herself in extracurricular campus life as she did. They weren’t living to go to school. They were going to school to give them a better chance at making a living.</p><p> </p><p>The high-engagement, low free time approach to college some people seemed content to take was of little interest to the two freshmen, and they weren’t afraid to admit it. If that mindset compromised the so-called college experience, then so be it.</p><p> </p><p>The party pulled away from the campus, heading for Hope. Though the borough was just a short drive from campus, the scenery shifted significantly as they drove. Approaching Ogden Street, the group marveled at the heavily wooded suburban blocks that passed by.</p><p> </p><p>Century homes passed by their windows, oozing southern New England charm. Jake and Helen were trying not to rubberneck as they admired the landscaping and architecture.</p><p> </p><p>Even Jane and Daria were mildly impressed, as Quinns look of curiosity turned to one of stewing jealousy as the notion sank in that her sister would have the luxury of both independence and an apartment in such a gorgeous area of the city.</p><p> </p><p>Arriving at Ogden Street, Jake parked and the three sat in the back of his car removed the haulage that had been sitting in their laps as they exited the car onto the street.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked around briefly, admitting “Well mom and dad, I have to hand it to you. I didn’t know you had such a keen eye for suburban New England real-estate.” Jane nodded her head in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>Helen wholeheartedly accepted the almost comically specific compliment. “Well thank you honey, but we haven’t even seen the apartment yet,” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jake rubbed his chin, eyeing house numbers. “52 Ogden Street, 52…” he said to himself out loud. After taking a few paces down the street, he waved to the four women.</p><p> </p><p>“Got it! Fifty-two Ogden, right here!” He exclaimed, waving a hand from the sidewalk in front of the house.</p><p> </p><p>The four joined him, and they ascended the short stairs onto the deck. Helen rapped her knuckles on the door quickly. </p><p> </p><p>Moments later, it opened. A smiling woman, blonde and broad in the beam with a wicked perm appeared before them.</p><p> </p><p>“You must be the Morgendorffer party,” she greeted with an exceptionally thick Boston accent. “Come on in!”.</p><p> </p><p>The group entered at the woman's behest. They immediately swung their heads around taking in the first in-person impression of the living space. Striking early century interior with some fairly modern upgrades, at face value it seemed it would suffice for Jane and Darias’ purposes.</p><p> </p><p>“I just want to inform you my standards are almost negligently low,” Daria said to the realtor as she strolled through apartment.</p><p><br/>
Jane backed her up. “Electricity and indoor plumbing will get us 90% of the way to signing on the dotted line”.</p><p> </p><p>The realtor raised an eyebrow. “Lucky you, this apartment does in fact have electric and indoor plumbing. It also happens to have two bedrooms, one and a half baths, a fully renovated kitchen, a high-efficiency wood burning stove and a storage room.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria approached the wood stove.</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent, a place to incinerate any burn-after-reading documents we may come into possession of,” she stated sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>Jane smiled and stifled a laugh, unlike the others in the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Let's check out the upper level,” Jane said, casting eyes on the noticeably worn staircase.</p><p> </p><p>The realtor led the group upstairs in single file.</p><p> </p><p>It was home to both bedrooms and the full bath. </p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria peaked into each bedroom before wordlessly coming to an agreement on which would be theirs. </p><p> </p><p>Daria stood in the empty room, visualizing where her personal effects would reside when the time came to move them in. She closed her eyes, imagining life under her own rules, unburdened by a sibling or parents breathing down her neck. It made her giddy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yes. Hell yes. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>As Daria daydreamed in the room across the hall, Jane stood with her hands on her hips. Puzzling out where her easel would sit, she contemplated the characteristics of the natural light flooding in through the window. Direction, time of day, hours of daylight.</p><p> </p><p>She placed her bed against one wall mentally, and inspected the bedroom's fairly spacious closet. It was to her liking, large enough to house her small wardrobe and substantial collection of art supplies. </p><p> </p><p>She turned back toward the window. Gazing out, her eyes unfocused as she imagined spending the coming years here on her own. The reality of the situation was heavy. Her throat tightened, stress creeping into the back of her mind.</p><p> </p><p>Though she wasn’t on her own. She turned, tearing her eyes from the window, peering through the open door of her room across the hall into Darias’. She watched as Daria paced around the room, lost in thought.</p><p> </p><p>The tightness in her throat subsided. She could do it.</p><p> </p><p>They could do it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Regrouping in the kitchen, the realtor looked to the five individuals standing before her expectantly. “So? How do we like it?” She asked cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>Helen and Jake shifted their attention to Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shifted her attention to them.</p><p> </p><p>“Works for me.” She stated flatly. She looked at Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shoved her hands into her pockets, agreeing. “I second that.”</p><p> </p><p>The realtor removed a small stack of paperwork from the manila envelope sitting on the kitchen island they were gathered around. Retrieving a pen from her pocket, she placed both of them down and slid them towards Darias’ parents.</p><p> </p><p>“Well it works for them, Mom and Dad!” The realtor teased, clearly applying pressure on Jake and Helen to sign and co-sign, respectively.</p><p> </p><p>Jake looked at Daria, then to the paperwork. Signing his name, he handed the pen to Helen, who subsequently accepted liability for his financial guarantee.</p><p> </p><p>The realtor tapped the now certified documents against the counter with a loud <em> clack. </em></p><p> </p><p>Sliding them back into the envelope, her smile grew even wider. “That's it! I will forward a carbon copy to your home address.”</p><p> </p><p>She continued, “The landlord and I will be here the morning of your move-in date in case you have any last minute questions before you take possession. We’re sure August 27th works for you all?”</p><p> </p><p>Jake looked at Daria, as did Helen and Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Daria glanced around. “Um, sure?” She confirmed.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After handshakes, thank you’s and goodbyes, the group descended the porch stairs, making their way back to the car on the double, at Jake's insistence.</p><p> </p><p>“It's already 2:30! At this rate we won’t be back until almost 9:00 tonight, God forbid the traffic between us and home,” he complained.</p><p> </p><p>Helen rolled her eyes. “Jake, we can always switch out if need be. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Taking their seats with bags in laps, they buckled up and settled in for the mind-numbing six hours ahead of them.  Quinn was once again scribbling in her journal, Daria staring out the window, and Jane pulled her sketchbook out from under Helens seat in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>Flipping the thoroughly vandalized cover open, she thumbed through the book to her most recent set of drawings. She examined each page with a keen eye, attempting to determine which sketches to further iterate on, and which to abandon.</p><p> </p><p>The interior of the hotel room, the Van Wickle Gates, a crude sketch of a group of students lounging on the college green. An equally hasty sketch of the John Brown House. She turned the page. A profile sketch of Daria, sat beside her on the student tour bus. She quickly closed the book.</p><p> </p><p>Noticing the subject of Janes’ final drawing, Quinn scrunched her nose in thought. She continued to jot down notes quietly. </p><p> </p><p>Daria turned her attention from the world rushing past outside to the now slightly smudged phone number scrawled on her palm.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> When the time is right? What does that mean? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She decided that once they had settled into their new apartment, and gotten more comfortable with the area surrounding it and the campus, she would make the call.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The drive back to Maryland was as uneventful as the drive to Rhode Island. This time, they had avoided rush hour traffic in both Philly and New York, making for a smooth but painfully boring return trip. Night, however, had fallen before they had reached Lawndale.</p><p> </p><p>Exhausted, the group pulled up to Janes’ house. Jane said her goodbyes and thanked Darias’ parents for the weekend. Exiting the car, she double and triple checked she had all of her belongings, including those from the trunk.</p><p> </p><p>Before she closed the door, she leaned back into the car and said “Bye, Daria.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria turned her head, raised a hand and cracked a smile. “Later.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane shut the door. Quinn wasted no time occupying the now vacant seat beside her. The Morgendorffers pulled away, eager to get home sooner rather than later.</p><p> </p><p>As Jane approached her front door, she briefly wondered who would be home. Maybe Trent? Or Penny, potentially both. Her parents didn’t cross her mind.</p><p> </p><p>She opened the door to a seemingly empty house, however this was betrayed by the muffled sound of a squealing guitar obviously emanating from her older brother's bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>Entering the kitchen, she peered out the window above the sink, seeing light pouring from the cracks between the canvas that formed her sister's yurt.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m home,” she said quietly, trying to ignore the sense of melancholy creeping in.</p><p> </p><p>The empty room around her gave no reply and she soon retreated to her bedroom.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria stumbled through her own front door. The drive had rendered her borderline comatose. Kicking off her boots and dropping both her overnight bag and sack of souvenirs she had been tasked to carry, she trudged up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shower. Sleep. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria showered quickly, longing for the embrace of her bed sheets.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling the oversized Twain shirt she kept as sleepwear over her head, she tossed herself into bed. She savored the warmth that quickly developed between her body and the blankets piled on top of her.</p><p> </p><p>However the solace of her quiet, dark room was spoiled by her now wandering mind. It quickly became apparent to her she was going to be fighting her own brain for the right to fall asleep.</p><p> </p><p>She tossed, but not before turning, and her mind seemed to settle on one subject she couldn’t just ignore in favor of sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Jane, and the weekend they had just spent together. Entirely alone with her own thoughts for the first time since the, well...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Incident. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her mind began to race as she once again recollected the intimacy of that night in the hotel room. She couldn’t shake the mental image of Janes’ body from her mind.</p><p> </p><p>Darias’ breathing grew heavier. She felt an intense, burning tickle developing inside her.</p><p> </p><p>It was deep, too deep to ignore. She rolled onto her back, her face flush with warmth. The feeling of her own lips on Janes’ leapt to the front of her mind, sending a jolt through her body.</p><p> </p><p>The thought melted any hesitation and her hand slid down the front of her panties.</p><p> </p><p>As she did, she stifled a gasp discovering the effect those memories had on her. She rubbed gently, rapidly causing the tickle to build  into ravenous yearning.</p><p> </p><p>Daria adjusted the position of her hand, achieving an angle that allowed her to reach the tickle. She pushed her fingers deeper, biting her lip to stifle a moan.</p><p> </p><p>She squirmed under her own handiwork, pulling her shirt up to expose her abdomen. Before she had time for a second thought, her eyes slammed shut and her mind clouded over with the kind of dull red desire that left little doubt as to what was about to happen.</p><p> </p><p>Her hips lifted off the bed, reflexively working up and down as the wet heat she was dealing with set her brain on autopilot. She groaned, gritted her teeth and came, hard.</p><p> </p><p>She gasped, placing her free hand over her mouth as the tickle subsided.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling onto her side, she stared out into the darkness beside her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So this is how it’s going to be, huh? </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria awoke, feeling surprisingly well rested. As the sun shone through the window, she checked the time. It was earlier than she expected, but the grumbling in her stomach belayed her want to lounge in bed for another hour or three.</p><p> </p><p>She removed herself from bed and spent some time becoming presentable, noticing the house was strangely quiet as she went about her morning routine.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she found the kitchen and living room unoccupied. Glancing out the window, there was no car in the yard.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Seems everyone had something to do today besides me. Nice. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Strolling into the kitchen, she fixed a bowl of cereal, brewed a pot of coffee and enjoyed the solace of uninterrupted breakfast at her own pace.</p><p> </p><p>Finishing her bowl of cereal, and pouring a second cup of coffee, she mulled over the ocean of raw emotion sloshing around in her mind, and deeper.</p><p> </p><p>She actually wanted to talk about her feelings.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If I was trying to convince someone to shoot my clone, I would get blown away. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria eyed the cordless phone on the counter as she sipped her beverage pensively.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, she rose from the kitchen table and dug through the kitchen drawer next to the fridge, producing her mothers worn leather address book.</p><p> </p><p>Flipping through the alphabetized names, she found her mark under “B”.</p><p> </p><p>Barksdale, Amy. Daria dialed her aunts’ number, placing the receiver to her ear. The dial tone buzzed for a dishearteningly long time, and just as Daria was about to hang up, she heard a greeting from the other end.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Amy.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Amy perked up on her side of the line. “Hello, Daria. To what do I owe this pleasure, niece of mine?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Daria raised an eyebrow and listened harder. She could faintly make out the distinctly funky rhythm of  Jamiroquais’ “<em> Soul Education” </em>playing in the background.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know I had an aunt with such good taste in music,” Daria commented.</p><p> </p><p>Amy chuckled, explaining “<em> Synkronized </em> is one of the best things to happen to me this decade.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria cracked a smile. “Nothing like some early morning acid jazz to wake you up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed, but I’m probably safe in assuming you didn’t just call to discuss British funk albums though, right?” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sighed into the receiver. “Right.” She confirmed.</p><p> </p><p>“So whats up?” Amy asked warmly.</p><p> </p><p>Fiddling with the hem of her jacket, Daria grumbled into the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmph, I just… Lately, I’ve been wanting to talk about my feelings.” She explained.</p><p> </p><p>Amy chuckled, “Happens to the best of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s about my friend Jane, specifically.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria continued. “All I can say is something changed. Some stuff happened. Serious stuff, stuff that most people wouldn’t say happens between people who are just friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see, I see. Stop me if I am wrong, but you don’t sound all that torn up about this quote unquote ‘stuff’ happening.” Amy hummed.</p><p> </p><p>Daria tapped her fingers on the table in thought.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re right but at the same time these feelings are different from what I felt for Tom Sloane. They are more concrete, more… Intense.” Daria admitted.</p><p>Placing her head in her hand, Daria continued “That sounded like I am writing off men. That’s not it, it's… I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>Amy nodded on her end of the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria, you pick a person, not a side. I should know.” Amy said.</p><p> </p><p>“You should know?” Daria questioned.</p><p> </p><p>Amy explained. “Well Daria, your ol’ Auntie Amy is bisexual. Came to the realization around the age 9 or 10, and tried my best to take it in stride growing up. Not to get wrapped up in putting a label on what you’re feeling. I am just saying I know it. It's like a vice grip on your heart, right?”</p><p> </p><p>She placed a hand on her chest for a moment before replying. “Yeah, It is.” She said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Amy continued. “Has Jane reciprocated what you’re describing?”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria gave a resigned snicker. “Reciprocated? She’s initiated whatever you want to call it, at least once or twice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well that may be a leg up, depending who you ask. At least you won’t feel like you are directing your feelings at a brick wall.” Amy quipped.</p><p> </p><p>“Amy, do you think I might be bisexual?” Daria piped up.</p><p> </p><p>Amy took a deep breath. “Daria, you are what you are. The only person you have to justify how you feel to is yourself. If everyone in the world was honest with themselves, there would probably be a lot more people that feel the same way you and I do. Like I said, you’re picking a person, not a side.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria nodded her head, smiling to herself. “You’re right. Thanks, Aunt Amy.” She said.</p><p>Amy reassured her, “No problem at all, Daria. Keep your head up and if you ever want to talk, just us, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll always have time for my favorite niece. Always.”</p><p> </p><p>After saying their goodbyes, Daria placed the phone down on the table and leaned back in her chair.</p><p> </p><p>She felt better. Really.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thanks, Aunt Amy. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jane sat at her kitchen table, chair reclined, boots placed firmly on the edge of it.</p><p> </p><p>She furrowed her brow, concentrated on <em> Super Mario Bros. Deluxe, </em>making good use of Trents’ Game Boy Color which he seemed to have already lost interest in.</p><p> </p><p>As she played, her mind strayed from the game to her siblings who occupied the same living space as her but with which she shared little in common.</p><p> </p><p>She found herself catching a glimpse of Pennys' yurt reflected in the too-dark gameboy screen, through the kitchen window behind her.</p><p> </p><p>She paused and flicked the power slider, watching the display slowly fade to a blank digitizer.</p><p> </p><p>Leaning her head back, she rubbed her eyes and turned in her seat. </p><p> </p><p>Jane wanted to talk to someone. She had to spill her guts about what had been happening between her and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Why? She didn’t know why, all she knew was that the easiest part of her day was the precious few moments between opening her eyes and remembering who she was in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>She stood up, patting her pockets to ensure her zippo and cigarettes were in their place. Satisfied this was the case, she grabbed her sunglasses off the counter on her way out the front door.</p><p> </p><p>Flicking her zippo, the smell of ronsonol stung her sinuses as she drug her Camel light through the flame.</p><p> </p><p>Puffing a few times, she grimaced. Having only started smoking recently, the self-destructive habit still gave her a considerable headrush, a nicotine high she assumed would soon become a thing of the past as her body adjusted to its’ new normal.</p><p> </p><p>Jane peered through her sunglasses at the street in front of her. Glancing down at her formerly injured hand, she clenched and unclenched it out of habit, feeling the grit of displaced tendon against bone.</p><p> </p><p>Hearing someone approaching to her immediate left, she took another drag, turning to face the company.</p><p> </p><p>Penny sauntered up from around the opposite side of the house, having just left her yurt for the first time in God knows how long, Jane assumed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Jane greeted.</p><p> </p><p>Penny posted up against the door frame beside her.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Jane.” Penny replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jane pulled out her pack of smokes, offering her older sister one.</p><p> </p><p>Penny waved her hand, declining. “No, thanks. How have you been?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane tensed her jaw, casting her eyes to the sky. “You know, Penny? I’ve been feeling like I need to drive. Get in the Lebaron, drive, and keep driving until I run out of fucking road.” She unloaded.</p><p>Jane pulled her sunglasses off, turning her steely gaze to her sister.</p><p> </p><p>“You?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Penny wilted under Janes’ piercing stare.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m… I’ve been alright…” She replied, unsure of what her sister wanted from her.</p><p> </p><p>Penny looked at her feet. “Damn. When did you grow up, sis?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stuck her cigarette in her mouth, freeing her hands to tighten her ponytail.</p><p> </p><p>“When I realized I would most likely be the only adult around to stick up for me.” She said, ice creeping into her voice.</p><p> </p><p>Penny looked to her sister. Keeping her gaze fixed on Janes shaded eyes, she placed a hand on her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Jane, if there's something you need to get off your chest, you can talk to me.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane finished her cigarette, pinching the cherry out and placing the butt in her pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“I know I can talk to you, Penny.” Jane said. “It would help if you knew me.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane turned, pushing back through the door into the house, leaving Penny alone on the front step.</p><p> </p><p>Penny shook her head, placing a hand on her forehead. The guilt of serial alienation she and her family had been engaging in for years weighed on her.</p><p> </p><p>She took a breath, pursing her lips and casting her mind back to the year Jane was born. She vaguely remembered as a young girl the day Jane came home from the hospital.</p><p> </p><p>A cold Spring day, 1981. She remembered being thrilled she had a sister. Swearing to her parents she would always be there for her. Telling them this was the best day of her life.</p><p> </p><p>Penny shook her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck me.” She said to herself turning on her heel, returning to her yurt.</p><p> </p><p>Jane closed the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>She swallowed hard.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I wonder if that bothered her. Hopefully not, because I feel like the show has just begun. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. High resolution Emotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 5: High resolution Emotion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally set to release at the end of November, I accidentally wrote the entirety of Chapter 5 in one day, so here it is.</p><p>Chapter 6 will be out before the end of the month. Enjoy.</p><p>TW: Extremely graphic descriptions of violence, blood and bodily injury.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Fashion Club stood shoulder to shoulder, squaring up with the Mall of the Millenium towering in front of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi took a step forward, placing her hands on her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Alright, Fashion Club. This is it. The end-of-summer seasonal clearance event. No matter what happens, remember: No purchases unless the markdown is at least 25%. Also, no taupe. Got it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn nodded her head. “Got it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stacy and Tiffany crossed their arms. “Got it, Sandi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The four proceeded into the mall, deadly serious with no quarter for fast fashion. The interior of the building was rife with clearance signs, as well as Y2K-related advertising.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They swept through the halls and storefronts calling out hot deals they spotted to each other, the four quickly reached the upper threshold of just how much clothing they were willing to lug around with them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They approached the food court, intent on breaking for lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Settling on “low-calorie” shawarma, Sandi led the fashion club to a free table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girls dropped their bags, placing their lunch on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stacy rubbed her ankle, pulling her heel out of her flat. She grimaced. “I think I’m getting a blister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tiffany nodded her head. “Ugh, like… Me too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn tut-tutted, wagging a finger. “Rookie mistake, I always put bandaids on my heels before I marathon shop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tiffany and Stacy both glanced at Quinn's feet. “Ooohhh.” They said in unison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandi picked up a pamphlet that had been left in the middle of their table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, all this Y2K stuff. We get it already.” She complained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tiffany swallowed her mouthful of shawarma, placing it down on her tray. “Is that gonna like… Destroy the world?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stacy shrugged, looking at the bags piled around them. “If it does, at least we will be the best dressed in the apocalypse,” she half-joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Abruptly changing the subject, Sandi motioned to Quinn and the other two girls went quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I believe the Fashion Club VP has some findings from her time at Brown University. Tell us about what fashion do’s and don'ts you observed, Quinn”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stacy and Tiffany looked on expectantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Quinn said, retrieving her journal from her sling bag, cracking it open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Skinny jeans, in. Pastel, out. V-necks, out. Ironically ugly tank-shirts, in.” She explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Fashion Club nodded, soaking up the out of state college fashion findings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bucket hats, for some reason, are in.” Quinn said reluctantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi scrunched her face up. “Executive decision: No bucket hats.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn, Tiffany and Stacy agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Running through her final observations, Quinn snapped her notebook shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She explained to the group “I would have gotten more but I was distracted by my weirdo sister and her weirdo friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi took a sip of her San Pellegrino. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They were extra cynical and sarcastic as always, but they kept looking at each other funny all weekend.” Quinn said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tiffany cocked her head to the side. “... Funny?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn nodded. “They were looking at each other almost as if they… I couldn’t tell you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They were just being extra lame.” Quinn said finally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Fashion Club continued discussing whatever topic came to mind as they finished their lunch, the bustle of the mall of little consequence to the power-shoppers huddled at the food court table.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s today. August 3rd is today. As I said to the last person I spoke with, load on August 24th, unload on August 27th.” Helen struggled with the disinterested secretary of their selected moving company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pinching the bridge of her nose she continued “Yes, Lawndale to Providence, Rhode Island. Yes I accept the interstate freight fee… I don’t need damage insurance. Okay. Thank you, goodbye.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanging up the phone, she turned to Daria and Jake who were a party to the conversation from the kitchen table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Well, that’s that.” Helen said, pursing her lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like the person on the other end was struggling. Should I be concerned my stuff is going to end up in Bolivia or something?” Daria said sarcastically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen raised an eyebrow. “No, Daria, I’m sure your things will arrive where they’re supposed to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake shifted in his seat, turning his attention to his daughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of shipping, how is Jane going to get her stuff to your new place?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria shrugged lackadaisically. “Load what she can into her car, maybe strap her mattress to the roof. She will figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake and Helen looked at eachother uneasily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone rang, as Helen was closest she picked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Oh, speak of the Devil. Hold on.” Helen handed the phone to Daria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “It's Jane, honey.” She added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria placed the receiver to her ear, “Go for Daria.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She spoke briefly. “I’m game, see you in a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria placed the phone down, “Jane and I are going to see The Sixth Sense tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake looked up from the National Geographic he was reading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw a commercial for that one on TV. Bruce Willis, right? Let me know how it is!” He said to Daria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria nodded, excusing herself from the table to get ready.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The afternoon wore on, and it eventually came time for Jane to pick up her friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling up in front of Darias’ house, Jane waved and Daria stood up from the curb she had been sitting on, rounding the front of the Lebaron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane watched her get in, saying “Hey Morgendorffer. You ready for a Bruce Willis-based extravaganza?” She joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria smirked. “Bruce Willis-based extravaganza is a term I reserve for Die Hard. We’ll call this a Bruce Willis bonanza.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane snorted, retrieving the sunglasses from her dashboard, flicking them open and putting them on. She hit the play button on her car stereo, tapping her hands on the steering wheel as “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Distance</span>
  </em>
  <span>” by Cake began to play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria hung an arm out the window, bobbing her head in time as Jane peeled out of her driveway toward the movie theater.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had arrived just in time to purchase overpriced cinema snacks, after that they worked their way into the considerably packed theater, finding their seats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour and forty-seven minutes later, the two emerged from the theater wide eyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn.” Daria stated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane rubbed the back of her neck in thought. “Seriously, be honest, did you see that coming? She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria simply shook her head as they made for the exit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pushing through the painted-black double doors they were greeted by the sight of an incredible, brilliant pink and violet sunset that transitioned to a deep burnt orange where sky met Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my god.” Jane said, gazing at the cascading cirrus clouds that caught the myriad of colour in wispy tendrils.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A comfortable late summer breeze brushed by them quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria walked her eyes from the sky directly above her to the horizon, watching as the Sun reached the point of being half-set. As it did, crickets began to chirp in the empty field across from the lot they had parked the Lebaron in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane took a seat on the hood of her car. Daria joined her. They kept their eyes fixed on the stratospheric light show playing out in front of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane sighed. “Are you ready for college?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria nodded. “I think so. What would change if I wasn’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adjusting her position slightly, Jane grunted her agreement. “I suppose”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world around them grew darker as the Sun transited the horizon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the bushes surrounding the lot they were sitting in, fireflies slowly made their appearance, floating and blinking lazily as the breeze subsided.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria scooted closer to her friend, placing her head on Janes’ shoulder. Without hesitation, Jane wrapped her arm around Daria, holding on tight. The two felt inseparable. The type of feeling that could make you forget your problems as soon as you felt it, even if just for a few minutes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria spoke up quietly, against the backdrop of crickets. “I wonder what Tom would say about this. Whatever this is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane glanced at her. “I imagine he would say something along the lines of ‘huh’.” She quipped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria smirked. Jane may have been right, but they would likely never know what Tom thought, he wasn’t around to bear witness to this. Physically, he wasn’t around. He had moved to Bermuda with his parents around three months prior.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever was happening between the two women was tangible. It was concrete in nature and it wasn’t scary anymore. They could each tell the other felt it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll call a spade a spade. I’m in love with you, Jane Lane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane's own thoughts kept her quiet. She watched the fireflies hang in the air, their soft yellow glint transfixing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Daria, I don’t know what you did to me and I don’t care. I want you to want me to love you, because I think I do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence enjoying each other's company for a long time, until the appearance of the first stars dotting the night sky signalled it was time for them to go.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darias’ parents sat in bed. Helen worked on a Sudoku while Jake thumbed through a copy of Good Housekeeping on a hunt for recipes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen exhaled sharply, setting the puzzle down on her lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jake, are you at all worried about how Daria will fare on her own?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake glanced from the magazine to his wife, then back to the magazine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If she wasn’t as intelligent and quick-witted as she is, I would be.” Jake replied in a surprisingly serious tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen fidgeted with her pencil. “You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Between her and Jane, I am pretty sure the two of them could handle just about anything that comes their way.” Jake added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of Jane,” Helen replied, “Did you find something seemed a bit… Different about her, while we were in Rhode Island?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake rubbed his chin briefly, then shrugged. “She's a young artist, dear. That should tell you all you need to know about her seeming ‘different’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose so, she just seemed… More serious? Focused, maybe?” Helen said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lots of things are changing in her life, Helen. Darias’, too. I’m sure they’re both a bit stressed out.” Jake said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen agreed. “Maybe Jane will help Daria open up a bit, once they are out of the nest and able to make their own way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake sighed. “I just hope Jane has the support she needs. You know, on the home-front that is. You and I both know how Amanda and Vincent can be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Taking the hands-off approach to parenting to the absolute extreme,” Helen commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake and Helen both agreed if Jane needed help, she shouldn’t have to go it alone. They were happy to help Darias’ friend if need be, in whatever form that help might take.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither of them had ever seen Daria take such a liking to someone, save her aunt, and they were willing to foster that relationship as much as they could.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Smoke rose from the gaps and holes in the canvas that comprised Penny’s backyard yurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A camp lantern hung from the ceiling, casting a warm but dim light over the hand decorated interior. Penny sat on her folding cot, Trent in an aluminum lawn chair that had clearly seen better days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, passing the joint to Trent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took it and Penny closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the music emanating from her second-hand boombox sitting in the corner. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vapour Rumours</span>
  </em>
  <span>” by Shpongle, to be exact.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent finished his hit, passing the dutchie back to Penny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s been distant, man. I’m telling you.” She said to Trent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent nodded lazily. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. She’s growing up. Call it angst, or resentment or whatever. We can’t undo the effect years of a fucked up family dynamic has on someone her age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, Trent. Believe me, I know. It was a shared responsibility we ended up fumbling.” Penny ran her hands through her hair, shivering as tingles raced down her spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent rubbed his eyes, admiring the dancing patterns of shapes and light that appeared behind his eyelids as he did. “We can’t hold her attitude against her. We just need to… Be more present, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny sighed. “Yeah. She just deserved better. Being the youngest in a group of siblings is hard enough as-is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent chewed a hangnail on his thumb, contemplating his next words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noticing his hesitation, Penny sat up. “What?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent held his hand out, and his sister handed back the joint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a quick hit, “I think there might be more going on than just teen angst, Penny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny raised an eyebrow. “Like what, Trent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at the scarlet tip of the smoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The night of the concert in Gaithersburg, after I got home. I went to check on Janey, make sure everything was alright. She was already asleep with Daria.” He explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?” Penny asked, unsure of what Trent was getting at.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>With</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daria.” He stressed. “They were wrapped around each other in Jane's bed. It was a bit more than friendly, Penny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny sucked a breath through her teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit, Trent… You think they might be..?” She trailed off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent rubbed his neck. “Maybe, Penny. Whatever the case may be, we really have to be there for her. She has to know she’s not alone, even if she doesn’t want our help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agreed. She’s a smart girl. Strong as hell, too. Leaving home for the first time is hard on anyone. I hope she knows how proud of her I am.” Penny said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent nodded. “Me too, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny blinked a few times. “We should plan a going away party for her. A fuckin’ rager, pull out all the stops. She deserves it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah we should.” Trent agreed. “I can get the band to help out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny reclined on her cot. “Cool. I’ll make some calls.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two relaxed in the dim, smoky yurt slowly burning the joint down to a nub.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane stowed her gym shoes, zipping them into her backpack. She toweled her face off as sweat threatened to drip from the tip of her nose. She retied her ponytail as she slipped into her combat boots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arnie strolled up to her, towel over his shoulder, water bottle in hand and a friendly smile on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So this is it, Ms. Lane!” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane exhaled, smiling back at him. “I guess it is, Arnie. I would keep coming here if I had my way, sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re moving onto bigger and better things. No need to apologize.” Arnie replied, waving a hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued, “Jane, you’re a fantastic student. One of the fastest learners I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Please, even though you’ll no longer be practicing under me, promise you won’t quit. Your potential is inspiring. I mean it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane was caught off guard by the sincerity in Arnies’ voice. She extended a hand to him, face serious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took it, their handshake rock-solid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Arnie. Really.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Ms. Lane. Good luck.” Arnie replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They broke the handshake, and Jane made for the exit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wouldn’t quit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jane left, she contemplated which way she wanted to walk home. She would have taken the Lebaron, but the cost of gas dissuaded her from overusing the vehicle. Besides, walking was still exercise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deciding on a change of scenery, Jane broke off the sidewalk and onto a nature trail that meandered through the woods, but still ended up just a block or so away from Jane’s street. Having taken the trail a handful of times before, she ended up lost in thought as she walked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her train of thought was soon interrupted by a commotion on the trail ahead. Pulling her headphones off, her ears were immediately met with the sound of yelling and screaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart began to race. She continued to walk, glancing over her shoulder as she did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She immediately came upon the source of the noise. A lady walking her dog was being accosted by a haggard woman. She was tearing at the woman's purse, and then Jane noticed the knife the dirty looking woman was brandishing at waist height.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn't notice her yet, the hair on the back of Jane's neck stood on end. She stooped over, grasping a rock slightly smaller than her fist. She took a few quick steps forward, cocking her arm back and letting the stone fly, far faster and with more force than she had anticipated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stone glanced off the muggers’ temple, dazing her as blood poured from the gash it created.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lady and her dog took the opportunity to bolt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go get help!” The walker said as she rushed down the trail in the direction Jane had just appeared from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mugger turned, mumbling to herself. She touched a hand to the blood streaking the side of her face, letting out a  scream as she pointed the knife and began advancing toward jane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You bitch, I’ll kill you!” She screeched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane knew she had to keep her eyes on the knife. She dropped her bag and watched as the woman approached. Her heart raced, her hands and feet prickled as fight or flight took hold of her body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of the two options, she chose the former.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman lunged, and Jane momentarily lost sight of the weapon in the mugger's hand before grabbing the wrist of the arm that held it. She pulled the arm up and away, and lashed her leg out violently, her shin impacted the side of the woman's knee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mugger howled as the joint gave out, however Jane's world was eerily quiet as adreno-cortisol induced auditory exclusion deadened her hearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane's own heartbeat and the sound of blood rushing through her body drowned out the grunting, screaming attacker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman was down on her opposite knee. Jane ratcheted the death grip she held on the womans’ wrist tighter, feeling cartilage giving way under her grasp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Janes’ focused sneer deepened into a contemptuous scowl. She wrenched the woman's thumb from around the knife with her free hand. She bent it backward until the woman's thumbnail made contact with her own wrist. The knife fell to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The profound anguish contorting the woman’s face was Jane’s cue to renew her assault. She grabbed the mugger by the hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her vision narrowed dangerously as her heart rate skyrocketed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her sinuses drained as her body fought for as much oxygen as it could get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane hurled a terrifyingly powerful elbow into the woman's face with the entirety of the strength she could muster in her adrenaline-addled state.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mugger lost consciousness immediately, held upright on her knees by her center of gravity alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane would end it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She planted a foot, twisting and launching the same straight-legged kick she had been practicing on the heavy bag into the woman's sternum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The force of the impact shook Jane to her core, her teeth grinding and she felt one chip. The woman in front of her was now prostrate on her back, unmoving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She spat the piece of tooth onto the ground in front of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stood still, trying to prevent her breathing from devolving into hyperventilation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her fists shook, nails digging into her palms. She wiped at her nose, which was now running as her body attempted to metabolize the flood of cortisol in her bloodstream. She watched the mugger like a hawk. Hot tears shed in anger ran down her cheeks. Her body was ready to react in an instant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When satisfied the woman was sufficiently disabled, Jane kicked the knife to one side of the trail and dropped down into a sitting position. She caught her breath, tunnel vision subsiding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her ears rang as circulation returned, the muffled world sounded clear once again. She rubbed her elbow, which was bloodied and swollen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She savoured the warmth in her shoulder as it slowly crept down her left arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane paused. Warmth?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cast her eyes down to her shoulder. She placed a finger in the small, jagged hole she discovered in her jacket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stars exploded in her vision, a wave of nausea washing over her. She smelled cold ozone as she began to black out. Biting her lip, she focused her eyes and told herself she wouldn't pass out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jane slowly removed her jacket, she let out a desperate moan, pain wracking the left side of her body. She forced herself to look at her shoulder, pulling her sleeve up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blood flowed steadily from the stab wound, it ran in trails down her forearm, dripping from her fingertips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ground soaked up the warm liquid as it fell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane applied pressure to the wound with her opposite hand, she growled and tried not to vomit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>FUCK</b>
  <span>!” She screamed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane's breath was ragged as she heard voices behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whipping her head around, she laid eyes on two police officers, as well as two EMT’s and the lady with her dog rushing down the trailhead to meet her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The police had their weapons drawn, and Jane attempted to raise her hands above her head but was nearly laid low by the pain shooting through her shoulder into her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lady was holding her dog, and pointed to Jane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s the one who saved me, officers! The woman on the ground tried to mug me!” She explained breathlessly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One EMT approached Jane, attempting to reassure her she would be alright. He placed a hemostat dressing on her wound, stemming the bleeding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other EMT tended to the mugger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane motioned to one of the cops, “Knife’s over there.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned her attention to the other EMT.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she going to die?” Jane asked quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The EMT looked up from the woman, “No, she’s not going to die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears began to well in Jane's eyes. She took a shaky breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The med tech helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you fixed up, alright? We have an ambulance waiting, another is on the way.” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears streamed down her face, her body shivering as she verged on hypovolemic shock.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Done all Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ch. 6 also releasing early. I can't stop writing, and that is the opposite of a problem. This one is heavy.</p><p>Same warnings apply as last chapter.</p><p>Chapter 7 likely to come before the end of the month. Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The paramedics draped a thick blanket over Janes’ shoulders, administering supplemental oxygen to offset the effect of blood loss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was transported to the hospital, and upon arrival an orderly appeared, wheelchair and intravenous fluids prepared in advance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane took a seat, allowing a nurse to take her vitals as they pushed her into outpatient surgery. She perked up as the dual-IV bags hanging over her head worked their magic. Saline, and a broad-spectrum antibiotic to reduce the potential for sepsis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, her shirt sleeve was cut off. The duty trauma surgeon prepared a syringe of Lidocaine and inserted it into the stab wound, apologizing as Jane slammed her opposite fist against the gurney, gasping and cursing under her breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The surgeon worked quickly as a nurse reassured Jane they were almost done. Jane glanced at the surgeon's bloodied nitrile gloves, following his hands as he pushed the suture needle through her numbed skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grimaced, baring her teeth as the wound closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse cut the rest of her shirt off, tossing it into the neon yellow biohazardous materials disposal bin on the other side of the operating room. Jane sat up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least her bra was spared of the bloody mess she had just lost two of her favorite pieces of clothing to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse turned to her, bandages in hand. “You’re going to have to drop the bra, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane sighed, using her uninjured arm to unfasten it, pulling the straps down and letting it fall into her lap. The nurse methodically wrapped her torso, ensuring the large hemostatic dressing was sufficiently immobile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse left briefly, returning with a black fabric sling she fastened around Janes’ uninjured shoulder, gently positioning the numbed arm in the crook of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She helped Jane into a johnny gown, the open-backed garment hung loose to her sides before the nurse tied the flimsy plastic tassels at the base of Janes’ neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she returned to the wheelchair, the nurse removed the cannula taped to her arm. Helping her into the chair, she was wheeled into the recovery room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“The orderly will be with you shortly to walk you through the discharge process.” The nurse said, patting Jane on the back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jane sat there, a blank stare fixed on the window in front of her, her ears rang. The ringing grew louder, her eyes stuck in place as her heart rate once again climbed. She felt cold sweat running down the small of her back. Her breathing grew heavy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The orderly approached, placing a hand on the wheelchair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane jumped, snapping her attention to the hospital staff that addressed her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Lane? We weren’t able to contact your next of kin. We actually don’t have anyone listed as your NOK, as a matter of fact. Was there someone you could call?” The orderly asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stood up slowly. “Yeah, there is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The orderly nodded his head. “Great. Also, the police dropped this off for you.” He hefted Janes’ gym bag, setting it down beside her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They also told me to tell you they are submitting your name for the Maryland State Department Award for Civilian Bravery. The woman you helped gave her endorsement.” The orderly informed her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane blinked. “A medal?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The orderly nodded. “As well, the doctor prescribed you Tazobactam and Hydromorphone. Use as needed, but make sure you finish the full course of antibiotics.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed her a small white bag with a prescription sticker attached to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you do need to make a phone call, feel free to use the phone on the wall beside the nurses station.” He continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel better.” He added with a sympathetic smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane took her bag, approaching the phone the orderly pointed out to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lifted the receiver and began to dial her house. She stopped, returning the phone to its cradle. Again, she found herself not wanting to explain the situation to one of her siblings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lifting the receiver again, she called Daria.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darias’ hand plunged into a bag of pretzels as she watched Sick, Sad World on the couch in her living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The narrator addressed the audience. “Is Canada a hoax? Find out next on SICK, SAD WORLD!”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria grabbed another pretzel, muting the TV as the phone rang. Brushing her hands against her jacket, she picked up the cordless handset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” She greeted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane's voice met her ears. “Daria, it's Jane. I need you to come get me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jane? Where are you?” Daria asked, sitting upright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m at Lawndale General. Just… Can you come get me?” Jane pleaded, voice wavering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darias’ expression grew serious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m on my way.” She replied, hanging up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jumping up from the couch, she dashed to the door, grabbing her parents keys and swinging the door open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve gotta use the car, be back in a bit!” She yelled, slamming the door behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria approached the outpatient entrance of Lawndale General Hospital, immediately finding Jane leaning against a concrete pillar near the doorway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slowed to a stop, popping the locks on the doors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane made her way to the vehicle, tossed her bag in the back seat and lowered herself into the passenger seat with some difficulty, pulling the door shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria looked at her friend, speechless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane looked tired, pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Blood was smattered on her cheek, and stained her lower forearm red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hair hung in her face, partially matted with sweat. She held her bloodied, torn jacket in her lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sling caused an awkward bulge in her gown as she adjusted it to cover her exposed back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jane… A- are you okay?” Daria asked, her voice grave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane rubbed her face. “No, Daria. I’m pretty fucking far from okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria placed a hand on Jane's knee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll explain while we drive. Just get me home.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arriving at Janes’ house, Daria helped her friend out of the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inside, it was quiet. Nobody home, as Jane expected. She was resentful, but relieved she would not have to explain herself, at least for the time being. She dropped her bag, taking her destroyed jacket into the kitchen and dumping it in the garbage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stared at the heap of bloodied clothing. The deep red of blood soaked fabric was almost indistinguishable from its original colour. However, the metallic smell of gore and sweat emanating from it betrayed what it had been subject to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane closed the lid. She turned, setting her eyes on Daria who was chewing her nails by the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to sleep.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Following her up the stairs, Daria carried Janes’ bag. Jane entered her bedroom, kicked her boots off and tore the johnny gown from around her neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria looked on, the extent of Janes’ injuries becoming apparent. Trails left by sweat cut through the deep brown bloodstains streaking Janes’ arm, side, and back. Her bruised, swollen elbow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pure white of the bandages was interrupted only by a small blood stain Daria observed as Jane turned to face her. Jane motioned to the sling and stab wound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apparently this gets you a medal in the state of Maryland.” She snarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria covered her mouth. Wordlessly turning on her heel, left for the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She closed the door behind her, slamming her eyes shut as she became nauseous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, Jane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria could barely stand to see Jane like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She straightened up, running her hands through her hair and taking a few steadying breaths. Grabbing a hand towel, she soaked it in warm soap and water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Returning to Janes’ room, she found her friend sitting on the edge of her bed in nothing but her panties, rummaging through the bag the orderly had given her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Producing a small translucent brown bottle, she twisted the cap off with her teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Liquid hydromorphone.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing at the label, she read it aloud. “Warning: Five times more potent than morphine. Use with caution.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane shrugged, taking a quick swig from the bottle. The copper tasting liquid stung her throat, and she shook her head. “Yikes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria sat down beside her. She held the warm washcloth up, motioning to the stains plastered on Janes’ body. Jane stared at the cloth for a moment, before she positioned herself better in relation to her friend. Once she did, Daria gently scrubbed at the dried blood and sweat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stared ahead. “I could have died.” She stated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria stopped scrubbing. “You didn’t,” she replied holding back tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning back around to face Daria, Janes’ face was serious. “How did violence become second nature to me, Daria? When I saw that woman being mugged, I didn’t even think about running. I put myself in danger because I could, not because I had to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jane, you did the right thing. You knew you had the ability and the will to act so you did. Who could fault you for that?” Daria replied, searching Janes’ tired face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria continued. “Jane, for my sake though. Be careful. Just, be careful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what I would do if something happened—” Daria’s voice broke suddenly as a sob escaped her throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane placed a hand on Daria’s cheek, wiping a solitary tear away with her thumb. Jane’s eyes met with Daria’s and she promised her, “I’m not going to get myself killed, and I know I’ll be fine, eventually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The opiates took effect quickly, and Jane found herself slightly dizzy as her body was enveloped in warmth. The aching wounds she had been ignoring slowly became painless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mind became fuzzy, the tightness in her chest caused by stress slipped away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laid back on her bed. “I think the meds are kicking in,” she informed Daria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate you taking care of me. You don’t have to stay, though. Your parents probably won’t be too happy with you for taking the car.” She mumbled sleepily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, they’re probably thinking I finally bugged out.” Daria replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane smiled weakly. “Heh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyelids fluttered, the world becoming soft and bright as hydromorphone permeated her blood-brain barrier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria stood up, “I’ll let you sleep. Call me when you wake up, okay?”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane gave a faint nod. “Mhmm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Approaching the door to Jane's room, Daria turned. “Bye, Jane.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye Daria. Love you.” Jane slurred.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darias eyes widened, a wave of anxiety gripped her, her face quickly turning scarlet. She looked over her shoulder, mouth agape searching for what to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Janes’ snore gave away the fact she was now fast asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria placed her head against the doorframe. She took a deep breath, closing Jane’s bedroom door and descending the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Exiting the house, she got in her parents car and white knuckled the steering wheel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love you? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did the drugs make her say what she was thinking out loud?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darias’ limbs went cold as an anxiety attack threatened to take hold of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Her conversation with Amy leapt to mind. Daria focused on what she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The only person I have to justify my feelings to is myself. Keep this to yourself for now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her grip on the wheel loosened and she hung her head, breathing deep. She glanced at the center console. Opening it, she flipped through her parents tapes until she found the one bootlegged tape she kept in the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning the ignition over, she slid the tape into the deck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bitter growl of KMFDM’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Megalomaniac" </span>
  </em>
  <span>reached her ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shifted into drive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Die wunder dieser Welt werden dir geschenkt.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn fumed on the couch, arms crossed. “So Daria just gets to do whatever she wants now, huh?” She pouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen and Jake shook their heads from their seats at the kitchen table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Quinn. She doesn’t get to ‘do whatever she wants’.” Helen said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake chimed in, “Right, and I’ll be having a talk with her, young lady, believe me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn turned her head. “If I took the car without asking I would be grounded for the rest of my life.” She complained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen rolled her eyes, “Quinn, you would be grounded for the rest of your life because you don't have a driver's licence. It's apples to oranges. We’re not upset your sister is using the car, we’re upset she didn’t ask permission first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake nodded, “That’s right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three heard the car pull into the driveway. Jake and Helen stood up, approaching the door, fully prepared to give the parental talking-to of a lifetime.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Quinn snickered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen replied “Quinn, please,” tapping her foot as they waited for Daria to open the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake was also tapping his foot, “She is going to have some explaining to do.” He said under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doorknob turned, Jake and Helen preparing to pounce.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria appeared in front of them, and closed the door behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to her parents, locking eyes with them. “Jane got stabbed trying to stop a mugging. I had to pick her up from the hospital.” She said matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her parents' jaws dropped, their eyes widening. Quinn jumped up from the sofa, turning to face her sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They watched as Daria walked over to the kitchen table, taking a seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s okay. The police are going to give her an award for what she did.” Daria said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s at home, resting.” She added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria was trying with all her might not to let the tears welling in her eyes fall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The raw emotion she pushed down caused a knot in her throat, but she didn’t want her family to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m starving, what’s for dinner?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew she came off cold, but she couldn’t bring herself to broach the issue right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Say something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. What will remind them of Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 7: What will remind them of Home.</p><p>It happened again. I wrote enough content for two whole chapters by accident while trying to write chapter 7, so I split it into both 7 and 8.</p><p>Chapter 8 will be published on November 24th, chapter 9 will likely be out by the end of the week, hopefully.</p><p>Please enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane opened her eyes. A vast, deep expanse of blue stretched out before her. She drug her fingers through the grass at her sides, feeling every blade brushing against them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned her head. The field she laid in went on for miles around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane took a breath as she sat up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cityscape around her bustled with noise, with lights. She stood and tried to read the street sign nearby to where she was standing, unable to decipher it despite her best effort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned back around. Looking down, gravel crunched under her feet, and the dense forest that surrounded her on all sides felt claustrophobic. An indescribable calliope of darkened nature imposed upon her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria appeared from behind a large tree to Jane's immediate left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank God, what's going on Daria? Are you seeing this?” She asked, confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria’s reply was inaudible to Jane. Her lips were moving, devoid of any sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Daria, I can’t hear you.” Jane said, a sickening sense of dread taking hold of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria looked around listlessly. She raised a hand, finger extended. A frown creased her face as she reacted to something only she could see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane followed Daria's gesture, asking “What is it?”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly she found the mugger rushing at her, screaming louder than anything she had ever heard. The thunderous bellow shook the earth beneath her feet, throwing Jane off balance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fell backward, over the edge of the cliff face she was now standing atop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling of weightlessness jolted her awake in an instant.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane’s heart raced, cold sweat soaked the bed sheets under her body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grimaced as one of the first worldly sensations that assailed her as the dream faded was the pain in her shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She coughed, throat hoarse and tasting of the medicated liquid she had drunk before falling asleep. Noticing the darkness outside her window, she rubbed her face wearily, unsure of what time it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane pulled herself upright, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She was woozy, a feeling she correctly attributed to the combination of painkillers and powerful antibiotics the trauma surgeon insisted she be administered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few moments, the unsteady feeling passed, and she stood up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shuffled to her closet and strained to find a t-shirt to wear. Upon finding a suitable top, she held it in front of her with one arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her other arm was immobile, and she was not about to try moving it without assistance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unwilling to tackle the logistics of putting it on and less concerned with modesty than food and water, she opted for pyjama pants only. A much easier task to negotiate with one arm, she pulled them on and proceeded downstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though her torso and shoulder were bandaged, the dressings did little to cover her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, she quickly came upon Trent and Jesse who were sitting at the kitchen table discussing their next setlist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Between them lay the remaining slices of a pizza they had ordered earlier that evening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane approached the table, wordlessly tearing off a slice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent and Jesse turned in unison to greet her unaware of the condition she was in, or her state of undress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent bolted upright, knocking his chair over. Jesse staggered out of his own seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh- oh man, I’ve gotta go!” He blurted, dashing to the door, absconding entirely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent's eyes were wide, his voice shook “Oh my god Janey what happened to you!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane took a bite of her slice of pizza.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallowed and said “You should see the other guy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent shook his head, unable to process his sister's crude joke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, tell me what happened, why didn’t you say something sooner?” He stammered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane sat where Jesse had formerly been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got stabbed stopping a mugging, three and a half inches deep. Nicked my brachial artery but missed anything else important. Should make a full recovery.” She explained, deadpan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent pulled his chair up off the floor and threw himself down in it, straining to process what his little sister had just related to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was quiet as Jane finished her pizza. He looked up at her, his expression grim.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Janey, we have to tell mom and dad.” He said. “We have to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane poured herself a glass of Hawaiian Punch from the bottle sitting on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess so.” She said, resigned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent approached the phone, sifting through scraps of paper on the counter beside it. He found a faded yellow post-it note that contained the last phone number their mother claimed she could be reached at, in Vermont.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dialing it, he kept the receiver held to his ear as the dial tone timed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Placing the receiver down, he turned the note over in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the last known number of their fathers' temporary residence in Oman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He attempted the number his father had provided. An automated “this number cannot be reached” message greeted him, instead of his parent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent slammed the receiver against the wall mount. “Fucking bullshit!” He blurted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his face, placing a hand against the wall and taking a few deep breaths.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane and Trent heard the front door creak open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny appeared in the doorway, back from whatever errand she was running.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stopped where she was, observing Jane's present condition. She closed the door behind her slowly. Approaching the kitchen where Jane was sitting, her chin trembled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“J- Jane… Are you okay?” She asked, panic creeping into her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Penny, I’m alright, I jus—” Jane’s sister cut her off, manic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no! Oh fuck, fuck!” She uttered, her eyes wide. Her face went pale as she laid eyes on Jane’s shoulder, stained with blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Penny’s breath grew rapid and shallow as she descended into a panic attack. She placed her hands on her head, backing into the wall behind her with a heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent stepped forward, “Penny, listen to me. She has already been to the hospital. She’s going to be okay, listen—” he placed his hands on her shoulders as he spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stood up, “Okay, calm down Penny, please. I’m alright. I would tell you if I wasn’t, just breathe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny pointed a shaky hand at Jane's torso. “You’re- you’re bleeding, you’re n- naked, I don’t know what t- to…” She went quiet as Jane took her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, it’s alright. Please just let us tell you what happened.” Trent implored.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He proceeded to explain the situation after sitting Penny down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now holding a glass of water with both hands, Penny hung her head as she listened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re okay Jane. I’m sorry I overreacted. I just… Seeing you like that really shook me, is all.” She explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane put a hand on her back from where she was sitting. “You don’t have to apologize, Penny, I understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent explained he had tried to contact their parents, to no avail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny nodded her head. “Not surprised. I will make some calls tomorrow, probably get a hold of them sooner or later.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Trent said, relieved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny turned to Jane, brushing the hair out of Jane's eyes with the back of her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look like you could use a bath, sis.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane sighed. “Would if I could, Penny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny stood up. “You can and I can help you. Let’s go,” she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane raised an eyebrow, incredulous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think you’ve seen enough of my ‘unmentionables’ for one lifetime?” She asked sarcastically, motioning to her own state of undress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny shrugged. “I changed your Huggies for nearly 3 years, hon. Helping you with a bath as a grown adult won’t kill me.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning a shade of red, Jane covered her face with her hand. “Ugh… I guess.” She conceded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On their way up the stairs, Jane stopped and called out to Trent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trent, can you call Daria and tell her I didn’t wake up dead?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Jane.” Trent responded wearily.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen placed the cordless phone down on the coffee table in the living room, sighing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent had explained to Helen what happened, adding that Jane was up and moving. She had told him that if they needed anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat down on the couch beside Jake. He looked at her, brow furrowed with concern for Daria’s friend as Helen related what she had just learned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen could tell Trent was appreciative. It seemed he deliberately did not mention where his own parents were in all of this, which broke her heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No young woman should have to go through that.” Helen said, voice sullen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake placed an arm around her. “Nobody should. She’s a fighter, Helen. If there’s any major takeaway from this situation, it’s that.” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen nodded. She once again stood up. “I should go fill in Daria.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ascended the stairs and approached Daria’s door, hesitating briefly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen knocked gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Daria? Are you awake?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer came back muffled. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen took a breath. “Trent called. Jane is up and moving and feeling better. He wanted me to let you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was quiet from the other side of the door for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Thanks.” Daria replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Attempting to think of something to say, Helens’ mouth opened momentarily but she decided against engaging with her daughter any further. At least for now. Nodding to herself, she turned and made her way back downstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria cradled a pillow against her chest, staring at the ceiling. A copy of Carl Sagans’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cosmos </span>
  </em>
  <span>lay closed at her side, a casualty of her current inability to focus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts erratic, Darias’ brain compulsively contrasted her memory of the first time she ever met Jane with the image of her leaning against the pillar outside of the hospital.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As intrusive thoughts tend to be, the mental juxtaposition was exhausting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She desperately wished today had never happened. For Jane's sake, but also for her own. A semi-selfish wish she knew would never come to fruition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled the pillow from her chest, placing it over her face and took a few breaths. Pleasant warmth met her face as she did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to tell you everything is alright, Jane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria inhaled, bracing the pillow against her face. She wailed into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Screaming all the air out of her lungs, Daria’s chest recoiled reflexively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What I want more is for us both to fucking believe it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few days had passed, and the mood in the Lane household was uneasy. Penny stood in Trents bedroom door as he flipped through January’s “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Uncanny X-Men Annual”.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>It took some effort and a few favours, but I managed to contact mom and dad.” She told him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent looked up from his comic, “Let me guess, they’re sorry but they can’t make it back right now.” He said, voice bitter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Trent. They didn’t say that. They are coming home, Mom is coming back on the next bus from Vermont, she should be here before Jane leaves for Rhode Island.” Penny said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continued, “As for dad, there was a power outage where he’s staying. It’s why he didn’t pick up when you called.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent laid the comic down on his bed, fixing his eyes on his sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s taking a long-haul taxi from Muscat to Dubai and flying out as soon as he gets there.” Penny explained. “He’s busting his ass to get back here, Trent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing up, Trent brushed by his sister on the way out of his bedroom door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well alright, I’m going to go tell Janey.” He said, mollified.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent knocked on Jane’s door, Penny leaned against the wall beside him as he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Jane said from inside. Trent opened the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Jane. Mom and dad are coming home soon.” Trent informed her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny leaned her head in the door. “They’re worried about you, Jane.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane was sitting on her bed, sketchbook in hand. Her sling lay on the floor beside her. She looked up from her drawing, face apathetic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So that’s what it takes, huh?” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent and Penny looked at each other. “What?” They said at the same time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stared. She motioned to her shoulder. “This is what it takes, me getting fucking knifed for them to put in the effort to be here when we need them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent’s face fell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny shook her head. “You didn’t hear the pain in their voices when I told them, Penny. They are dropping everything to be here before you go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane rubbed her eyes. “Okay, and if this hadn’t have happened I would have gone to college out of state, and who knows when I would have seen them next. Two, three years? Maybe at my college graduation?” She said, her voice cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny and Trent said nothing, their faces pained realizing she was probably right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for letting me know. Close the door on your way out, please.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her siblings obliged, turning and leaving. As the door shut, Jane closed her eyes and brought her knees to her chest, hanging onto them with both arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening her eyes, she took a sharp breath as she turned around. Pressing play on her stereo system.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Pantera’s “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Becoming</span>
  </em>
  <span>” filled the room, so did cigarette smoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flicked her zippo shut</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>lowering her head as she drug her cigarette.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn sat upright from where she was laying on the couch. “Hey! Hey look at this! They’re talking about Jane on TV!” she shouted to the household.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her parents appeared behind her from the kitchen, and Daria descended the stairs and joined them, arms crossed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On TV was the local news station, the police had finally released details of the mugging to the media and they pounced on it. Daria laid eyes on the ticker at the bottom of the screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It read: “Teen hero injured saving local woman from armed mugger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria’s eyes lingered on the text. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh oh. Jane’s not going to like this. I should probably give her a heads up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As her family watched the story, Daria retrieved the cordless phone from the kitchen table and took it to her room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dialing the Lane house, Daria sat on the edge of her bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane picked up.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane, it’s Daria. I don’t suppose you were watching Local 58 just now?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane scoffed. “You suppose correctly. Local news channels give me a migraine. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria swallowed. “The police released details of the mugging to the media.” She explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stayed quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Teen hero injured saving local woman from armed mugger’ is the title slide they went with.” Daria continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane sighed on the other end of the line. “Wanna come over?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria was surprised at her lack of a response to the news. “Uh, alright. Now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Bring junk food.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Daria hung up, she gathered an unopened box of Taquitos from the freezer and a bottle of Shasta from the fridge. She bagged the items and approached her parents in the living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom, dad, can I use the car to visit Jane?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen turned to her. “Thank you for asking first, Daria. You can take my SUV, the Lexus is acting up.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria took the keys from the hanger. “Thanks. I’ll be back later tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loading her things into the SUV, she tossed the bag of snacks onto the seat beside her, eyeing them as she turned the ignition over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope my metabolism can keep up with this. My late 20’s are going to hit like a truck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled out of the driveway and headed for the Lane house.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing a knock at the door, Jane carefully pulled on her old, baggy bathrobe and hastily tied her hair in a ponytail before she went downstairs to answer it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon opening the door, Daria looked Jane up and down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you look comfortable.” She snarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane struck a pose of haute couture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I catwalk ready?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria smirked and held up the snacks she had brought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bring you and your Taquitos into my den.” Jane said, standing aside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After cooking too many taco rolls and cracking the bottle of soda, the two entered Jane's room and Daria kicked her boots off. She sniffed the air in Jane's room, making a face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you been smoking in here?” Daria asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane glanced at the Camels on her headboard. “Maybe a bit.” She replied sheepishly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gross.” Daria said, plopping down on her bed and grabbing a Taquito. Taking a bite, she savored the warm, cheesy saltiness of the snack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane noticed the blissed out look on Daria’s face. “Good, huh? There’s more where that came from so get to work,” she joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria nodded and didn’t hesitate. As they sat chatting, the conversation eventually turned to the news broadcast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, when you told me they called me a hero on the news, I didn’t feel like one. I didn’t feel much of anything.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria set her Taquito down on the paper plate in front of her. “Jane, you aren’t obligated to feel one way or another. That story they ran, their take on it is just that. Their opinion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane nodded, “I guess. The thing is though, I wanted to feel something. The lack of feeling about what happened has been bothering me. It’s like my brain just swings between either apathy or resentment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shrugging, Jane continued. “Well, that’s actually not totally true. I’ve felt a lot of something else lately. I don’t really know…” She trailed off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria cocked her head, looking confused. “Um, something else?” She questioned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As in something other than just apathy and resentment, for the first time in a long time.” Jane said, casting her eyes down searching for words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, It feels like this.” Jane stated and lunged across the bed to Daria, kissing her deeply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria’s eyes widened, her heart painfully skipping a beat. She threw her arms around Jane’s neck pulling her lips from Jane’s for just long enough to whisper “Please...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane placed a hand on the back of Daria’s head, trembling as a flash over of white-hot desire took her, leaving her dazed and in heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria tore her jacket off frantically, tossing it on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane pulled her bathrobe off with her injured arm which, while weak, was not immobile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria edged closer, running her hands over Jane's back, down to her rear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane could feel the wet heat building between her legs as Daria's’ hands took their place on her ass, she leaned into it encouraging Daria to explore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria’s head swam, heart pounding like a bleeding drum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She locked eyes with Jane. Her look was beseeching. Unmistakable. She wanted Jane to hold her down and take her with everything she had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane grabbed Daria’s hands, bringing them to her breasts. Daria held her breath as she came to terms with the fact she was now teasing Jane’s nipples.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane groaned and put a hand down the front of her panties, finding she had already partly soaked through them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria would do her one better, returning her hands to Jane's rear and placing her mouth on one of Jane’s nipples. She worked her tongue in tight circles, noticing goosebumps rising on Jane’s body as she did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane continued to rub herself as Daria sat back, tearing her own shirt and bra off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell to the floor, Daria now sat in just her skirt. She watched Jane squirm as she pleasured herself, and Daria felt her own womanhood tingle, a sign to her she was as wet as Jane seemed to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Daria reached for Jane's wrist, pulling her hand from her panties and inserting Jane's wet fingers into her mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane stared as Daria sucked her drenched fingers, and then her own, rubbing herself just as Jane had been moments ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria rolled onto her back, and Jane moved in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed Daria’s knees apart, flipping her skirt up to expose what her mind was now fully fixated on. Jane used the increasingly large damp spot forming on the fabric between Darias legs as her target.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grasped the material with one fist, pulling them down and away in one smooth motion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria presented her heat, “Jane... Please…” She moaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane’s chest heaved, her breathing especially heavy as blood rushed to her lower abdomen. From under her breath the sensation drew a lust-filled growl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled back, removing her own panties as Daria looked on. Jane heard her lover gasp as she exposed her own sex without hesitation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane gripped Daria's hips, pulling her closer, and placed one of her own legs around the opposite side of her friend’s body, scissoring Daria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane pushed her own hips forward, the contact forcing a moan out of her, and Daria stifled a squeal with both hands as Jane proceeded to fuck her senseless.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Romance, in Allegretto</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 8: Romance, in Allegretto.</p><p>As promised, here is Chapter 8. I am working to get as much done as I can before December 9th, as I will be taking a short hiatus from posting (December 9th-January 2nd) to celebrate the holidays, my birthday and the new year.</p><p>Chapter 9 is currently in its early stages, and should be published by the end of the week. Please enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Trent and Penny occupied a booth, sitting opposite each other at Five Guys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent reached into the grease-stained brown paper bag to one side, retrieving a handful of extraneous fries that had been dumped on top of their burgers before being served.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny slurped her cola, eyes fixed out the window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent wiped his mouth, tossing his napkin down on the table. “The cops called.” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did they now?” She replied, chewing her straw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. They asked if Jane wanted a ceremony at the local precinct to receive her award, or if they should just mail it.” He explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny raised an eyebrow. “If you said anything other than mail it, Jane will have our heads.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Trent chuckled. “You know I know how Janey feels about cops. I told them to mail the shit to us.” He said, popping another fry into his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So are we still having that going away party?” Penny asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent grunted, “Mmm, yeah. Should lift her spirits, you know? It’ll be good for her.” He mused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny agreed. “I say make it self-invite. Anyone who wants to see Jane before she goes should be able to. No dicks, though.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No dicks.” Trent said with a chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They agreed to hold the party on Saturday, August 21st. The end of the next week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conversation turned to the touchy subject of their parents’ return to Lawndale as they finished their meal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So they didn’t give you any sort of time frame as to when they would be back?” Trent asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny shook her head. “No. Quote unquote ‘as soon as possible’ was all either of them were able to commit to. Amanda is probably going to end up hitchhiking from Newport to Concord, then bus from there to either Baltimore or Washington, whichever is cheaper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent blinked as he tapped the bottle of malt vinegar at their booth against the tabletop absently. “What about dad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny sat back, stretching her legs. “It’s going to be tricky. He specifically mentioned the fees levied against short-notice commercial air passengers at Maṭār El Qāhira El Dawly. Apparently its worse than Dubai.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent looked at her confused, only just remembering she had somehow managed to become conversational in Arabic during her travels abroad. Strange, considering she didn’t even pick up Spanish during her lengthy stay in Costa Rica.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snorting, Penny apologized. “Sorry. Cairo International Airport is what he meant. He said he is going to have to pawn some of his camera equipment to afford the flight out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “At least they’re trying, right?” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny nodded. “At least they’re trying.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi scrutinized the array of tops and pants laid out on Quinns’ bed. Swapping their positions around she huffed and turned to the closet Quinn was rummaging through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quinn, you really could do with a dark fuchsia tube top.” Sandi said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. My parents don’t like me wearing those, though. Something about not wanting me to end up like Courtney Love or something.” Quinn replied, exasperated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Hey, I meant to ask if you saw the news earlier this afternoon. It was about your weird sister's weird friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding the pair of silver low-rise pumps she was looking for, Quinn pulled herself out of the closet and turned to Sandi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I saw. Pretty crazy, huh?” Quinn commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi hesitated, her look turning sour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn raised an eyebrow. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally speaking up, Sandi explained “My dad was talking to the city comptroller yesterday, who talked to the Lawndale chief of police. He told him what Jane actually did to that mugger…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn stared at Sandi, puzzled. “What do you mean? What did she do?”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sandi swallowed hard. “She like, mutilated her, Quinn. Broke her nose and half of the bones in her face. Broke her thumb so badly she will never be able to use it again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A look of horror crept into Quinn's expression as she listened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not even the worst of it. She also almost completely shattered her sternum or whatever. She had to get airlifted to a hospital in Bethesda because a shard of bone was like, pressing against her heart.” Sandi related.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Going pale, Quinn stared at her feet. “I… I didn’t know that.” She said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was total overkill, Quinn. Jane is like some kind of psycho or something.” Sandi accused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn frowned. The news troubled her. Did Daria know all this?</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria tried to catch her breath and control her shaking legs. Jane lay beside her in the same condition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane rolled onto her side to face Daria. “Well.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria looked over. “Well? Jane you screw like a, uh...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria wracked her brain for a word, trying to pierce the thick veil of serotonin and oxytocin that fogged her mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know.” Daria admitted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You deserved it.” Jane giggled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria pursed her lips, turning her gaze back to the ceiling. She wondered if now was the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I bring it up?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hesitated, trying to imagine all the ways the conversation could go if she decided to tell Jane about what she said when she was high on hydromorphone the afternoon of the mugging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria again turned her eyes to Jane. “Jane, the afternoon you came home from the hospital. Just before I left, you said goodbye. You also said that you loved me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane went scarlet red, the embarrassment nearly knocking her out of bed. She covered her face and let out a loud groan into her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy. Shit.” Jane said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria stifled a laugh at Jane’s reaction. “Jane, you just fucked me so hard my life flashed before my eyes and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>is what ends up embarrassing you?” She teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane gave a muffled “Mmhmm” from behind her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria was quiet for a moment. “Is it true?” She finally asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is what true?” Jane asked, peaking at Daria from between her fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria asked again. “Is it true what you said that day? Or was it the drugs talking?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane removed her hands from her face, placing one over injured shoulder. She glanced down to the bed, thinking about her answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria didn’t take her eyes off of her, blurry, as Daria had removed her glasses at some point in the throes of their encounter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane began, “Daria, when I’m with you… I feel real. Human. Like I actually belong on this planet, for once. If that’s a feeling you would describe as ‘love’, then yes. What I said is true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria listened intently, her expression intense. She said nothing as the first tears streaked down her face into the pillow under her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane’s eyes widened, “I’m s—” Daria cut her off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those are the words I have been looking for. That’s It. If you’re willing to call the feeling love, so am I.” Daria replied tearfully, voice shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane found tears welling in her own eyes. She placed her lips on Daria’s once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should probably put some clothes on before someone finds us like this and we have to try to explain it away as some kind of performance art,” Jane joked as she broke the kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria laughed. “Good idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…We belong on this planet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The medal Jane had been nominated for arrived in the mail as well as a hand-written letter from Laura Collins, the woman she had saved from the mugger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Included in the envelope was a check for five hundred dollars, pooled together by Mrs. Collins and her family as a thank you for what Jane did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trent and Penny were nearly finished planning Jane’s going away party. Having brainstormed a time and place, they also put together a few killer mix tapes and located some pallets for a huge bonfire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny spoke with Daria and managed to get a few names of people Jane wouldn’t hate to have at her party. Among those names were the likes of Jodie, Mack and Andrea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Penny informed Daria that her and Trent had a strict “no dicks” policy in place, and Penny would act as enforcement for said policy for the night, much to Daria’s relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the summer wore on, Jane’s parents eventually returned. They did their best to help her prepare for her move out of state, and for the beginning of her post-secondary education. As did Daria’s parents, each in their own way. Life became increasingly hectic as their to-do lists grew as fast as they could cross items off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Due to this uptick in responsibilities, Jane and Daria had little time to see each other in the intervening couple of weeks between the night they had confessed their feelings to each other and the weekend of the party, which was mere days away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, they still spoke on the phone regularly during this time and they had each noticed an improvement in their moods. The emotion and self-doubt that had burdened them for some time was eased now that they had a real heart-to-heart with each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake and Helen had heard through the grapevine that Vincent and Amanda Lane were back in town. They had called to invite them over for dinner; When Vincent answered the phone and asked if they wanted to speak to Amanda, it confirmed the rumour that they both were in fact back in Lawndale. At least for now.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vincent and Amanda had accepted the Morgendorffer’s invitation to dinner and as such, Jake set to work early the day of preparing chicken andouille jambalaya.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The aroma of chicken stock, crushed tomatoes, sauteed onions, jalapeno and sausage filled the house and to his families’ mild surprise, smelled absolutely fantastic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the evening approached, a knock came to their door and Helen answered, expecting the company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amanda, Vincent, Jane, welcome!” She said with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen motioned for them to enter, closing the door behind the three as they did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda brandished two bottles of red wine, smiling. “Vin de glace Rouge from Sherbrooke, Quebec. I just had to bring some, it’s delightful.” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vincent was also bearing foodstuff, a freshly baked multigrain baguette. “For you.” He said, handing the bread stick off to Jake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake smelled it exaggeratedly, perking up. “Well heck, might as well toast this up right now! I’ve got compound butter in the fridge!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Lanes were offered a seat at the dining room table, and Helen approached the staircase. “Quinn, Daria! Company!” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few moments later, the sisters descended from their rooms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Mister and Misses Lane, hey Jane.” Quinn said, joining them at the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Daria had a chance to say anything Jane shot her an apologetic look, likely for subjecting Daria to a family dinner that involved her own parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria smirked, and took a seat across from Jane. Soon enough, dinner was served. Jake took great pleasure in dishing out his unexpectedly competent jambalaya, as well as the now toasted baguette Vincent had provided.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda offered the first bottle of ice wine to Helen who set about filling glasses with the exceptionally fragrant light burgundy beverage. As she made her way around the table, Quinn, Jane and Daria held up their glasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raising an eyebrow and placing a hand on her hip, Helen dissuaded them from pressing the issue and they settled for ice water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the group dug into their meals, Jake piped up “It’s a shame Trent and Penny couldn’t make it tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda nodded, “Oh I know. Unfortunately Trent had an important rehearsal. Penny is, well… Penny.” She said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's no problem at all.” Helen said, taking a sip of the wine. Her eyes went wide as she swallowed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodness, that is incredible.” She complimented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda smiled and Vincent proceeded to broach the subject on everyone's mind, with the exception of Quinn. “So, Brown U. Very impressive.” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake set down his forkful of jambalaya. “I really can’t tell you just how proud we are of Daria! We were always under the impression she wouldn’t have much trouble tackling post-secondary applications, but Brown! Wow!” He said enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lanes both agreed, with Amanda adding “We’re in the same boat. Overjoyed Jane will have the opportunity to apply her talent in an academic setting. Isn’t that right, Jane?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda looked at her daughter, who was paying no attention to what her parents were saying as she scarfed pieces of baguette slathered with garlic herb compound butter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up from her plate. “Mhmm?” She said, mouth full.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria stifled a chuckle, though she was also invested in the selection of carbs laid out on the table, wasting no time polishing off her jambalaya.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vincent shifted his attention to Quinn, who had been largely quiet for the duration of the dinner. “So, Quinn, I’m told you visited the campus as well. Did it pique your interest?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn fiddled with her fork, pushing pieces of sausage to the side of her plate, unwilling to subject herself to the entirety of the caloric carpet bomb she had been served.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, it was nice, I guess. I think I might look into a more local cosmetology program, though.” Quinn stated before abruptly changing subjects.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jane, why did you pick Krav Maga? Don’t most people go for a more defensive martial art?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane swallowed her mouthful of chicken and rice before replying, sensing a loaded question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I chose Krav Maga because it teaches you how to end fights on your own terms, instead of just surviving them.” She said simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn angled her face away from Jane, mumbling “At any cost, apparently.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane furrowed her brow as the subject was quickly dropped, shifting to the living arrangements of the two soon to be college students.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fantastic you and Jane have decided to room together, Daria.” Amanda said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vincent added “You can say that again. Neither of us can believe Jane would ever end up close enough with someone so as to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be roommates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Vincent's comment, Daria turned a shade of red she hoped was not that noticeable, and at the same time Jane nearly choked sipping her water. She sat the glass down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, you know it.” Jane said, trying feebly to mask her embarrassment with sarcasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the amount of food on the table slowly dwindled and plates were emptied, the older adults at the table transitioned into the “drink and talk at length” portion of the dinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was of no interest to Jane or the Morgendorffer sisters, resulting in them each asking to be excused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they had left the table and cleared their dishes away, Daria turned to Jane as they reached the top of the stairs saying “Gonna hit the washroom, be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane nodded, but before making her way to Daria’s room, she was stopped by Quinn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had an accusatory look on her face, “I heard what you did to that woman, Jane.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane crossed her arms in front of her. “And what would that be?” She said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard you permanently disfigured her. She’s going to be all messed up for the rest of her life, Jane.” Quinn said, voice low.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn continued, “Just because you’re bigger and stronger now and know Krav Maga doesn’t justify gross overkill, you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Jane approached Quinn, closing into her personal space in just a few steps and placed a hand against the wall beside Quinn's head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bringing her own face inches from Quinn's, Jane pulled her shirt sleeve up exposing her gruesome scar, the stitches had visibly been removed recently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn's eyes crept from Jane's face down to her scar. Quinn squealed and covered her eyes with her hands, going pale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane grabbed Quinn'</span>
  <span>s wrists, pulling her hands away and making her look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Five inches, Quinn. Five inches higher and to the left and the knife would have pierced my carotid artery and killed me on the spot.” Jane hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continued, “I am going to have this scar for the rest of my fucking life, Quinn. I never asked for that woman to ‘disfigure’ me, but seeing as she started it what the fuck makes you think I wouldn’t return the favor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears welled in Quinn's eyes, she kept them locked on Jane's so she wouldn’t have to look at the scar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane rolled her sleeve down. “Pray to your God you never end up in a situation like the one I was in, Quinn. If you ever do, then you will understand why I fought back the way I did. It was my life, or it was hers. That’s as fucking personal as it gets.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking her arm down from beside Quinn's head, Jane stepped back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quinn turned wordlessly, heading directly to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daria soon returned, finding Jane still in the hall by herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, you good?” Daria asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane turned to her, giving a slight smile. “All good. Up for a game of scrabble?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Masters of the House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 9: Masters of the House.</p><p>This chapter is releasing ahead of schedule (as usual- oops). I'm continuing to try to get as much done before I take a ~1 month hiatus beginning in December, as stated in the last chapter header.</p><p>Chapter 10 will be released within the next week.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>With the Tank parked in the driveway of the Lane house, Jane glanced out the front window. Trent, Penny and Nick were hauling supplies into the back of the vehicle. Jane had recently been filled in by her siblings exactly where the party would take place, a spot in the woods near where Trent had found the Lebaron.</p><p> </p><p>Max Tyler had brought up the idea of having the party in the woods, “away from the prying eyes of the 5-0”. Agreeing parties in the woods were typically an awesome bad idea, Trent and Penny decided they would scavenge some pallets to pile up in a huge bonfire.</p><p> </p><p>The phone rang, and Jane turned from the window where she stood. Picking up, Daria greeted her, deadpan as per usual.</p><p> </p><p>“So what time should I show up to this thing?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane took a seat at her kitchen table, her zippo making a familiar, rhythmic <em> clink </em>as she snapped it open and shut.</p><p> </p><p>“Depends how much of a square you want to be. I will be there at 6:30, however seeing as it's my own party I am exempt from square status.” She said jokingly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria scoffed into the phone. “I’ve adopted the Huey Lewis philosophy of squaredom, in that it’s hip to be one. Should I bring anything with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged to herself. “Meh, just your gorgeous self.”</p><p> </p><p>Groaning, Daria reluctantly accepted the compliment, ending the conversation with “guess I’ll see you tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane hung up, leaning back in her chair as she considered the purported attendees of the party. All of Mystik Spiral, Daria, Mack, Jodie, Andrea and herself. Not many people, however that was certainly how Jane preferred it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Daria once again found herself searching her closet for an outfit, to her dismay.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Didn’t I swear off fashion for the next decade? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She sighed, and continued rifling through her stash of scarcely-used apparel. She set aside a pair of grey cuffed denim shorts, and pulled out a slightly too-small t shirt emblazoned with Daft Punk’s <em> Homework </em> album art. A gift she had been given by Aunt Amy for her 17th birthday.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I never realized how many band t-shirts I had and never ended up wearing. I wonder why. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Imagining the reaction other students at Lawndale high would have had if she showed up one day in something other than her typical jacket, shirt, skirt and boots, she rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ...Right. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stepping into the shorts and pulling the shirt over her head, she then laced up her combats and proceeded into the bathroom. Upon entering, she noticed a knot of Quinns hair elastics sitting on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>Looking from the hair ties to her own reflection, she grabbed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail with her hand. Staring at her own exposed neck, she quickly let go and decided against having an adventurous hair day.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Daria made her way down to the living room where she found Jake snoring on the couch, Jerry Springer muted on the TV in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking her fathers shoulder, he awoke with a start, snorting as he did. “Huh? Oh hey kiddo. What’s crackin’?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>“You know where Blakeman’s Gravel Quarry is?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jake scratched his head, thinking for a moment. “The Blakeman’s Gravel…”</p><p> </p><p>“The one that almost got shut down by the EPA because the dust clouds it produced threatened to choke out a daycare center downwind of it.” Daria reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha! What about it?” Jake asked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria crossed her arms. “Mystik Spiral is throwing a going away party for Jane nearby and I need a drive there.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, sure.” Jake agreed, puzzled but not asking questions out of fear for the answers.</p><p> </p><p>As they saddled up in Jake's Lexus, he jiggled the keys in the ignition. “Come on, play nice…”</p><p> </p><p>Sputtering on condensation in the fuel lines, after three attempts the engine finally roared to life. “Roar” may have been too strong a term for it.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the ticket!” Jake blurted, buckling up and putting the car in gear as Daria rolled her eyes and buckled her own seat belt.</p><p> </p><p>As they drove through Lawndale headed due north, the golden hour approached and Daria found herself uncharacteristically eager to drink in the scenery that passed by her. Though she had seen it a thousand times, knowing she was moving soon made her strangely nostalgic.</p><p> </p><p>Jake began to reminisce. “You know I would have loved to have a going away party before I went off to Middleton. Any sort of party, really. Or even just a nice dinner with my family.” He griped.</p><p> </p><p>“Heck, at least you guys get one. That’s good enough for me.” He consoled.</p><p> </p><p>Daria grumbled her acknowledgement, lost in thought.</p><p> </p><p>The party she was on her way to struck her as bittersweet. Bittersweet in that, for all the independence and opportunity it stood for, the constant stress of college and adulthood weighed on her more each day. There was something else bothering her, though. This time she knew what it was.</p><p> </p><p>Her relationship with Jane, they hadn’t pinned down what exactly it was. What the boundaries of play were. Were they dating? Friends with benefits?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Something else outside the meta of normal human relationships? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She wasn’t necessarily eager to put a label on it. She just wanted some sort of ground rules, because as it stood right now the relationship was seemingly rudderless, imparting a gnawing sense of uncertainty she wasn’t keen to deal with constantly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> We’re gonna be roommates. There will be time to figure it out. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She decided she would sideline the thought for tonight, because there would indeed be time to figure it out.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Spotting the Tank parked on the side of the road, Jake pulled over. Opposite the vehicle, Daria could already see the trail into the woods that party-goers of long past had broken.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to crash with Jane tonight, I’ll be home in the morning.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jake looked around noticing the lack of, well, anything nearby. Though it made him slightly nervous, he was unwilling to rob his daughter of what he considered in his head to be an important part of growing up.</p><p> </p><p>Saying goodbye and making a mental note of where he had let her out, Jake pulled away and Daria was left peering into the woods on the side of the road, able to faintly make out the sound of music emanating from within.</p><p> </p><p>Plodding down the dirt path, she pushed past grabby twigs and branches, one of which snatched her glasses off of her face. She bent over to pick them up, and when she stood she found Penny standing on the path in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew I heard someone coming.” Penny said with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Daria put her hands up. “Don’t shoot.”</p><p> </p><p>Penny waved a hand. “Come on, we’re just getting started. Jodie and Mack are already here. Spiral is getting the bonfire going.”</p><p><br/>
Daria followed Penny on the short walk to a fairly large open area. It was grassy and well-trodden, but still surrounded by tall trees and shrubs. Stumps and logs had been stripped of bark and rolled into place to act as seating.</p><p> </p><p>Central to all of this was a circular gravel patch with a large stack of wooden pallets, interlaced with cardboard and twigs. Daria noticed Trent and Nick were having a disagreement over how best to get such a large bonfire alight.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m telling you man, start at the bottom, the fire will work its way up.” Trent said.</p><p> </p><p>Nick shook his head, “Yeah, if we weren't using any kind of starter fluid. We are, so we should start it midway up.”</p><p> </p><p>Penny approached the two, taking the barbecue lighter out of Trent’s hand, and the rolled up newspaper from Nick’s. She doused the paper in lighter fluid, stuffing it into the pallet forming the base of the pyre.</p><p> </p><p>Holding the lighter to it, the bottom pallet began to burn. She tossed the lighter back to Trent.</p><p> </p><p>This caught Jane’s attention, and she approached Penny and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Keeping the square factor to a minimum, I see.” Jane quipped.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shrugged, “I tend to stay somewhere between uncomfortably early and fashionably late.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane raised an eyebrow. “Most people just call that ‘being on time’.”</p><p> </p><p>Penny snickered and Daria replied “Come on, that’s boring.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Penny led Daria to a folding table that had been set up with lawn chairs. Mack and Jodie along with Max Tyler and his plus one, Vick, had broken up a deck of cards for a game of Cheat.</p><p> </p><p>Looking up from their cards Mack and Jodie greeted Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you guys been here long?” Daria questioned.</p><p> </p><p>Mack nodded. “We showed up early because we can’t stay long, parent’s are breathing down our necks on this one.” He said as he laid a card down and called it.</p><p> </p><p>“Bluff.” Jodie declared with a smirk, causing Mack to wince as he reluctantly scooped up the sizable pile of cards and shuffled them into his own hand.</p><p> </p><p>Jane took a seat on a polished stump nearby to the table.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie turned to Daria, “Jane mentioned you two are rooming in Providence. That’s pretty cool, I hear it’s a great city. Are you guys in residence?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane looked at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“No, luckily we’re not in residence. My parents were somehow able to nab a surprisingly affordable two-bedroom apartment north of campus.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie nodded, “I kind of figured you two wouldn’t be down with living on-campus.”</p><p> </p><p>Mack perked up, enticed at the thought of having his own apartment for college.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Jodie. Could you imagine having our own place? Our own rules, mmm.” He rubbed his jaw, losing himself in the thought.</p><p> </p><p>He snapped out of it when Vick had placed his card down, signalling for him to make his play.</p><p> </p><p>“I bet you guys will love it.” He concluded.</p><p> </p><p>Daria had positioned a rickety lawn chair beside Jane's stump and taken a seat.</p><p> </p><p>The group continued to chat about college, parents and plans for the future. Jane and Daria ended up dealt into the next game of Cheat. Nick set up a charcoal camp grill he had lugged in from the back of the Tank and was now attempting to grill hotdogs.</p><p> </p><p>Penny was once again tending the fire, which had nearly completely engulfed the pallets and chaff they had piled. She turned her attention to the path as she heard someone approaching through the quickly darkening brush. Andrea appeared before the group.</p><p> </p><p>She raised a hand. “Hi.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane was surprised Andrea actually showed up, “Hey, you found us.” She greeted.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not the first time I’ve used a rising column of smoke to find my way through the woods,” she replied ominously.</p><p> </p><p>Daria offered Andrea a seat and soon hotdogs were served, and much to the parties delight Nick had ended up carrying his chef duties into the endzone, easy as it was to cook franks over charcoal.</p><p> </p><p>With plenty of dogs to go around, Max addressed the group. “Record number of hotdogs you guys have eaten in one go, mine is seven <em> with </em> buns.” He said smugly.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie scrunched her face. “Four.” She replied.</p><p> </p><p>Mack thought for a moment. “Six.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane looked at each other, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>Jane admitted her record. “Eight.”</p><p> </p><p>She nudged Daria, who triumphantly declared “Ten with buns plus three without.”</p><p> </p><p>The group at the table were flabbergasted by Daria’s hotdog-demolishing prowess. Jane snickered having witnessed the feat Daria claimed the summer before at a cookout hosted by Trent and herself.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Moments later, Trent and Jesse appeared from the trail that led back to the Tank. Between them, they hefted a scuffed up silvery keg and each brandished a sleeve of plastic party cups.</p><p> </p><p>Lowering the drum down on one end, Jesse handed Trent the keg pump and he carefully tapped it, ensuring a good seal and pressurization.</p><p> </p><p>Mack and Jodie glanced at each other, and together declared they should be going.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing personal, it's just that if either of our parents found out we were at a party with alcohol we would be cooked.” Mack explained apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie agreed. “Sorry guys, thank you so much for inviting us though, really. It was good seeing you Jane, and Daria. Good luck to both of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mack nodded, he and Jodie shook Jane and Daria's hands with warm smiles.</p><p> </p><p>They proceeded back down the trail in the direction they had come, making their way to some predetermined pickup point for their parents to find them at.</p><p> </p><p>Trent shrugged, pouring the first cup which he handed off to an eager Andrea.</p><p> </p><p>“Sweet liquid lobotomy…” Andrea said sardonically, taking the pint in hand.</p><p> </p><p>When beers had been distributed to the remaining party guests, Trent and Penny raised their cups.</p><p> </p><p>“To Jane, and Daria. They will be gone but not forgotten.” Trent toasted.</p><p> </p><p>Jane snorted, “It’s college, not a funeral.”</p><p> </p><p>Andrea raised her drink as well. “Though it could be.” She snarked.</p><p> </p><p>Mystik Spiral, as well as their plus one’s Ash and Vick, who had mostly kept to themselves for some reason, held their cups high.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Now get it into ya!” Penny declared, slugging her first pint in a long, hard chug. The rest of the group cheered and joined her.</p><p> </p><p>Trent picked up the boombox Spiral had brought along and placed it on a convenient stump, handing Jane a small stack of tapes.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Mix tapes Penny and I put together for you. Check ‘em out.” Trent replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jane turned the tapes so they were illuminated by the bonfire. There were four tapes, five songs per side. She examined the sharpied track listings, giving an impressed whistle at the admittedly eclectic but highly appealing selection of music.</p><p> </p><p>Jane had made her first choice.</p><p> </p><p>Tape 3 - Side A:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fritz’s Corner - Local H </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All Apologies - Nirvana </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Them Bones - Alice in Chains </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Shutterbug - Veruca Salt </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Damn Trent, you guys went all out, these are sick!” She said. Trent smiled as she hopped down from her stump, and approached the boombox.</p><p> </p><p>Jane snapped the tape deck hatch shut and pressed play. She returned to her seat beside Daria, drink in hand.</p><p> </p><p>Daria gave an approving nod as the music filled the clearing in the woods. “Nice. Those tapes yours to keep?” </p><p> </p><p>Jane took a sip of her beer, “Yep. Guess it pays to have siblings with good musical taste.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
Soon, Max stopped what he was doing, held up his cup and called out to the party “Never have I ever!”.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked at Jane as she turned her attention to Max.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, what?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Never have I ever, if you have done the thing the person asking the question says they haven’t done, you take a drink.” Jane explained.</p><p> </p><p>Daria raised an eyebrow incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>Max continued, “Never have I ever kissed a dude!”</p><p> </p><p>Penny, Daria, Jane, Andrea and Jesse all took a drink.</p><p> </p><p>Jane leaned over to Daria, “Jesse has kissed a guy before? Damn, just when you thought you knew someone.”</p><p> </p><p>Nick’s plus one Ash took the next question. “Never have I ever eaten a fish.” He declared.</p><p> </p><p>There was a collective groan, and Penny piped up “Dude, you mean to tell me you have never eaten fish before in your entire life?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Ash shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>Penny snorted, taking her drink. “Who is this fuckin’ guy?” She said with a laugh.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. One night, on Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 10: One night, on Earth. Be sure to check the end notes for bonus content including illustrations from this chapter, my thoughts on the story so far and its future, The Sick Sad Mixtape as well as my discord username (for those who are into that kind of thing).</p><p>Editing note: A small portion from the end of the previous chapter has been moved to the beginning of this one for easier readability.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the party took drinks, as could be imagined they had all eaten fish at some point in their life up to then.</p><p> </p><p>The questions continued, going from person to person until most everyone had reached ten points, now thoroughly buzzed. Daria stood up, set her empty cup on the table and exhaled sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“What is the bathroom situation like out here?” She asked, turning to Penny who was adding a spare pallet to the fire.</p><p> </p><p>She cocked a thumb over her shoulder, towards a secluded group of chest-high shrubs at the opposite edge of the clearing.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sighed, “Figures.”</p><p> </p><p>As Daria started off in that direction, Penny would end up taking the opportunity to have a private conversation with her sister.</p><p> </p><p>She sat down beside Jane, who noticed Penny visibly unsteady on her feet, her sister leaned in and addressed her hushed tones.</p><p> </p><p>“So Jaane-o… Let me ask you s-somethin’...” Penny slurred.</p><p> </p><p>Though Jane was four beer deep, she was more coherent than her sister.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why does it seem like every time Daria steps out someone ends up trying to have some sort of one-on-one with me? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What is it, Penny?” She replied.</p><p> </p><p>Nick approached the two about to offer them the last hot dogs but Penny shooed him away with an exaggerated hand wave.</p><p> </p><p>“You- you and Daria, are you guy’s… You know, you guys… A <em> thing </em>?” Penny finally asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane’s eyes widened, she let out a sarcastic gasp. “A <em> thing </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Penny nodded, burping twice without excusing herself. “Yeah… Like, you girlfriends or something?”</p><p> </p><p>Jane’s face turned serious. “Penny, if there <em> was </em> a <em> thing </em> I wanted you to know about, you would know about it already.”</p><p> </p><p>Penny whipped her head around, having caught sounds coming from bushes near the trail out of the clearing. She stood up wordlessly, disengaging from the slightly tense conversation entirely.</p><p> </p><p>“I hearshomethin'.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stood as well, squared behind her sister, ready to back her up.</p><p> </p><p>Penny steadied herself as much as she could in her considerably inebriated state, and approached the bushes the sound came from.</p><p> </p><p>They were noticeably rustling now, and Penny lunged forward with a yell, disappearing into them for a moment. Daria returned to the fireside, having witnessed what just happened. She pulled up beside Jane, who was watching the situation intently.</p><p> </p><p>“Should we… Help?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane didn’t take her eyes off the commotion in the bush. “She’s got it.”</p><p> </p><p>In just a moment, Penny emerged from the bush dragging Upchuck by the collar behind her.</p><p> </p><p>She hoisted him up, and the other party attendees had come to see what the commotion was.</p><p> </p><p>“Well hello, party people!” Upchuck said with shifty eyes and a crooked smile.</p><p> </p><p>Jane and Daria both slapped their palms to their faces in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“I take it you know ‘im?” Penny asked Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Unfortunately.” Daria replied.</p><p> </p><p>Jane nodded in agreement. Penny looked her prey up and down. “He a dick, er what?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane looked at each other for a moment, smirking and confirmed Upchuck was in fact a dick.</p><p> </p><p>Penny shrugged, “Sorry buck-o, no dicks s’allowed.” She proceeded to bounce him from the party, ensuring he was well on his way down the road at the end of the trail before she returned.</p><p> </p><p>Andrea, also tipsy, stepped up beside Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“How did Upchuck even find out where we are?” She asked, half-interested.</p><p> </p><p>Daria scowled. “That’s a question I would rather not know the answer to.”</p><p> </p><p>Nudging Daria playfully, Jane said “At least we had a competent bouncer on hand.”</p><p> </p><p>Andrea dug into her pocket, pulling out her cellphone. Checking the time, she sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Jane noticed the handheld Andrea was looking at, “You have a cellphone?” She asked, mildly impressed.</p><p> </p><p>“My dad got a new one. Handed this one down to me. It’s midnight, though. My ride will be here soon. Sorry,” she said, voice sullen.</p><p> </p><p>Jane put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all good. Thanks for coming, Andrea.”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time since Daria and Jane had met Andrea, she smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Bye Jane, bye Daria. I truly hope I dont find you guys in the obituaries anytime soon.” Though this was an unusually high accolade coming from Andrea, her shockingly morose compliment made Daria and Jane stifle a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>They watched as Andrea proceeded to the road and sure enough they heard someone, unsure who, pick her up.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The party had begun to wind down, but wasn’t over. The group that remained around the bonfire were thoroughly buzzed, in some cases wasted, and stuffed with charcoal grilled wieners.</p><p> </p><p>Penny was snoozing in the soft grass, Max and Nick were sat playing a game of euchre with Vick and Ash.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane lounged by the fire, as did Trent and Jesse.</p><p> </p><p>Jesse rummaged through the pockets of his ripped denim vest. Producing a lighter, he continued the rummaging until he found the thick joint he had rolled earlier that day, specially for the party.</p><p> </p><p>Trent voiced his approval. “Yesss, Let’s burn.”</p><p> </p><p>Taking the first hit, Jesse held his breath and passed the spliff to Trent.</p><p> </p><p>Jesse coughed and nodded. “Straight rope, man.”</p><p> </p><p>Trent took his hit as Jane and Daria looked on. After a moment of hesitation, Jane stuck out her hand, motioning for Trent to pass it.</p><p> </p><p>Jesse and Trent looked at each other, chuckling. “You serious?” Trent said.</p><p> </p><p>“One toke, just to see what it’s like.” Jane replied.</p><p> </p><p>Daria leaned forward. She wasn’t drunk, but buzzed enough and assumed Jane was in the same state as she toyed with the idea of having a hit herself.</p><p> </p><p>Trent snorted, “Alright, but take it easy. Stuff will hit like a freight train ‘cus you’ve been drinking.” He said, and passed the joint to her.</p><p> </p><p>Jane took the ganja, she sniffed it inquisitively. Its sour, earthy smell burned in her nostrils. She squinted her eyes before taking what seasoned stoners such as Trent and Jesse would call a “fuck-clobbering” hit.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes slammed all the way shut, she held the smoke in her lungs for all she was worth. In just a few seconds she burst out coughing, Daria patted her on the back.</p><p> </p><p>“Santa María… Wish me luck.” Jane said, hoarse.</p><p> </p><p>She offered the joint to Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Eyeing it apprehensively after seeing what it had done to Jane, she shrugged. “I guess I could spare a few brain cells,” she said sarcastically, taking it in hand.</p><p> </p><p>Daria placed the spliff to her lips and hit it. Immediately, she fought the urge to hack the smoke out of her lungs. Eventually, she allowed it to leave her body under control. The smoke rose into the air lazily from her nose and open mouth in a milky white trail.</p><p> </p><p>Trent and Jesse glanced at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Now that’s a hit. You done this before?” Jesse asked.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shook her head, closing her mouth slowly. She passed the joint back to Trent and sat down. She turned her attention to Jane, who’s expression had turned to a surprisingly dumb grin.</p><p> </p><p>Jane waved her hand in front of her face, furrowing her brow as her fingers left slow-motion after images of themselves in her vision.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, Daria...” Jane said, now fully aware of the effect the herb was having on her. She glanced at Daria, still grinning as goosebumps raced down the nape of her neck.</p><p> </p><p>Jane let her hearing drift to the music playing on the boombox. She closed her eyes as she interpreted the sound to feel like a fast-moving river, rushing through her senses as her mind meandered through some sort of slushy, perplexing liminal space.</p><p> </p><p>Daria nudged her, “Were you going to say something, Jane?”</p><p> </p><p>Jane opened her eyes. “I could say ‘something’. See? I just did.” What she said wasn’t funny or a joke, but she laughed anyway, unable to help herself.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, as Daria looked into the flames crackling in front of her, she realized she was now as high as Jane.</p><p> </p><p>She contemplated the nature of the exothermic reaction playing out in front of her. Daria’s brain raced back through the chain of events that led to humankind’s control of fire.</p><p> </p><p>In her altered state, the scope of the consequences it had on the entirety of human history nearly brought her to tears. She felt truly blessed to be in the presence of it.</p><p> </p><p>Daria snapped out of her trance when Jane spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“I see the appeal. This stuff’s better than alcohol if you ask me.” Jane said pulling the ponytail out of her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders. She ran her hands through it and sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Daria nodded in agreement, startled when Jane suddenly sat up.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hell <em> yes. </em> ” Jane said as Rage Against the Machine’s “ <em> Vietnow </em>” began to play over the boombox. Jane bit her lip as she got caught up in the music.</p><p> </p><p>Daria also couldn’t help but nod along to the sound.</p><p> </p><p>“Trent, you and Penny did the living shit out of these mixtapes.” Jane complimented.</p><p> </p><p>Trent accepted the compliment, and Jesse looked on amused as Jane and Daria discovered what it was like to be high for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>“You baked, kid?” Jane asked Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Daria nodded and rested her head on Jane’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of the delicate vibrations that permeated her entire being in that moment.</p><p> </p><p>Penny had awoken to drunkenly retrieve blankets from the road case stowed in the back of the Tank. She appeared behind Jane and Daria, causing the stoned duo to turn with a start.</p><p> </p><p>“Blankets.” Penny said.</p><p> </p><p>She dropped two between them and tossed one to Trent.</p><p> </p><p>Penny retreated back to Tank and reclined the passenger seat, quickly passing out. In the back of it Max, Nick and Jesse shared the cramped floorspace, the close quarters not particularly bothering them due to their state of inebriation.</p><p> </p><p>Jane unfolded the blankets she had been given, wrestling with impaired coordination as she did. Laying one out on the ground, she sat down on it. Daria joined her.</p><p><br/>Grasping the second blanket she tossed it over the two of them, the nest that resulted was surprisingly comfortable on the feathery grass. The low flame of the bonfire snapped and hissed quietly in front of them. It did wonders preventing the cool night air from encroaching.</p><p> </p><p>Trent was already asleep, Jane and Daria could tell they wouldn’t be far behind. Jane cuddled closer to Daria, “Well, this has got to be it.” She said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria looked at Jane, mystified by the out of context statement. “What’s <em> it </em>?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked back to the fire. “My happy place.” She replied.</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, Daria nodded. “I think you might be onto something.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane drifted off to sleep. Daria turned her eyes to the sky and counted the falling stars as they streaked through the deep black overhead, contented knowing she didn’t want to be anywhere else other than here. Soon she too was asleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Awoken by the sound of early morning songbirds, Jane opened her bleary eyes and took a deep breath. The mild, argillaceous smell of morning dew mingling with ash from the fire pit was not unwelcome and she stretched out under the blanket.</p><p> </p><p>Trent was also awake, although he still hadn’t mustered the strength to get up from his blanket. Jane looked around attempting to gauge the time of day as she massaged her shoulder gently, a habit she had formed when she discovered it would be stiff for hours each morning if she didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Daria groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. Jane sat up, looking down at the friend-shaped lump under the cover beside her.</p><p> </p><p>“We should probably get home.” Daria said, muffled.</p><p>Jane seconded the motion, and stood up. She noticed Penny approaching from the direction of the tank, rubbing her face. The bags under her eyes and grimace she wore betrayed the fact she was hungover.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it about being in your thirties that makes hangovers so much worse?” Penny grumbled as she wandered around the camp, gathering objects that had been strewn about during the course of the party the night before.</p><p> </p><p>Jane patted Daria on the arm who took that as a cue to sit up. She blinked a few times and looked around for her glasses. “Sounds like a problem coffee could fix.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Plucking the glasses in question from the stump behind them, Jane handed them to Daria. She gave Jane a sleepy but appreciative smile.</p><p> </p><p>The two set about folding their blankets. Jane scooped up the stack of mix tapes from the table across the clearing and stuck them into her pockets. Having played each side at least once the previous night, she was thoroughly pleased with their contents.</p><p> </p><p>Once the clearing had been policed of any refuse the group made their way down the path, each carrying something to load into the Tank. Trent banged his hand on the side of the vehicle, rousing the members of Mystik Spiral still sleeping in a heap in the back of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, shit…” Max said, coughing as he awoke.</p><p> </p><p>Nick rubbed his head. “Damn I got wasted, boys.”</p><p> </p><p>Jesse mumbled something unintelligible and assisted the group from the clearing to load what little space they had left in the Tank.</p><p> </p><p>After some highly creative packing, Trent saddled up in the driver seat, and Penny rode shotgun. Daria, Jane and the rest of Spiral piled into the back, bracing themselves against the walls.</p><p>As the seven got underway, heading back to Lawndale proper, the mood was one of hungover contemplation.</p><p> </p><p>“That was pretty sick,” Jesse said. “You guys should go away more often.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane shook her head, exasperated. “Thanks, Jesse.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria snickered and nudged her.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Packing day at the Morgendorffer house had come and gone with little fanfare and Daria was now living out of her suitcase and sleeping on the couch. Her bed and the rest of her personal effects had been loaded and were now bound for 52 Ogden Street in Providence, set to arrive on 27th of August, as had been arranged by Helen.</p><p> </p><p>Jane on the other hand was now working tirelessly with Trent and Penny to prepare the Lebaron for its arduous Journey to Rhode Island.</p><p> </p><p>Unable to afford a team of movers, the chore fell to Jane and her siblings to pack as many of her worldly possessions into the red coup as they possibly could. Jane’s mattress would indeed end up having to be strapped to the roof.</p><p> </p><p>Trent dropped the hood of the Lebaron shut. He wiped his hands on a grease stained rag and turned to Jane, who was attempting to stuff as many objects behind the driver seat as she could.</p><p> </p><p>“Topped up your fluids, tightened your serpentine belt and banged out your engine air filter. That just about runs the gamut of things I know how to do under the hood of a car. Sorry.” Trent said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked up, giving an appreciative smile. “Hey, it’s better than nothing,” she said. “Thanks Trent.”</p><p> </p><p>Penny peaked out from behind the raised deck lid. “Jane, this box of replacement glue gun sticks isn’t going to fit in the trunk.” She said, defeated.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged, “They can ride up front with me.”</p><p> </p><p>She glanced at the glue gun on the passenger seat, where she had placed it and a few other of her most prized art supplies so as to not lose them in the fracas.</p><p> </p><p>As the three worked, eventually Vincent and Amanda emerged from the house to check on their progress. Mister and Misses Lane had continued to be as hands-off as one would imagine even in the lead-up to Jane’s move. Though now that moving day had come, they appeared for their obligatory goodbyes.</p><p> </p><p>The late August sun beat down on the majority of the Lane family that had gathered in the driveway. Vincent inspected the packing job that was at this point nearing completion.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda was calm, though her emotion nipped at her voice when she spoke up, “I just wish Wind and Summer could be here to see you off, Jane.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane rounded the car to where her mother was standing, mostly indifferent to her other siblings absence. “It’s fine, mom. I’m sure I will get to see them again at some point in my life.” She said, attempting to prevent sarcasm from creeping into her tone.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda stuck a hand in her pocket and produced a small earthenware pendant encased in glass which was affixed to a long, corded leather loop. She offered it to Jane with a sweet yet sad smile.</p><p> </p><p>Jane kept her eyes fixed on the curious necklace. She took it in hand and turned it over a few times, it was rounded, the rough hand-blown glass was uneven with edged facets where it had been worked, but retained a relatively high degree of clarity.</p><p> </p><p>Inside, there was a small disc of reddish brown earth that had been stamped with the impression of Yggdrasil, the sacred world-bearing tree described in old Norse cosmological texts.</p><p> </p><p>Jane raised her eyes from the pendant, to her mother, who was looking on expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, thank you. I’m assuming you made this yourself?” Jane asked.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda nodded. “Indeed I did. The earth used to create the inset of these amulets was gathered from every continent on earth.”</p><p> </p><p>She reached down the front of her blouse and pulled out a matching necklace, as did Vincent who had rounded the car to join them.</p><p> </p><p>Jane’s mother explained, “I started work on these three matching necklaces when I received the news I was pregnant with you, Jane.”</p><p> </p><p>“It took us nearly fifteen years to gather the soil we needed. The favours I had to pull to get a matchbox full of dirt from Antarctica...” Vincent added, trailing off.</p><p> </p><p>“We had to.” Amanda added.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re our youngest, and no matter where we are on this planet we will be connected in spirit by these,” she said, pointing to the amulet in Jane’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been saving it for the day you finally took your life into your own hands. That’s today”. Vincent said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looped the jewelry around her neck, holding it up in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>“You guys… You spent fifteen years making these?” Jane asked, speaking past a lump in her throat. Amanda and Vincent nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Your mother and I both know how things have been around the house since you’ve gotten older. Even though we weren’t around much, don’t think for a minute you weren’t in our hearts the whole time, Jane.” Vincent said.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda nodded. “That’s exactly right. We know you will find your way.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane felt tears welling, tears she never expected to shed for her parents. She slid the pendant down the front of her shirt, and put her arms around both her mother and father, hugging them tight.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know when I’ll see you both again, but… Thanks.” Jane said.</p><p>Breaking the hug, she turned and faced Trent and Penny, who had given her and their parents some space to say goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>Trent crossed his arms. “What, none of that sappy stuff for us?” He said jokingly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane chuckled, and held up her fist. Trent bumped it, and she did the same for Penny.<br/><br/></p><p>“I would say good luck, but… You don’t need it.” Trent complimented.</p><p> </p><p>Penny smirked. “He’s right. Be safe, kid.” She added.</p><p> </p><p>Jane hopped into the driver seat of the Lebaron and closed the door. She rolled the window down, addressing her parents one last time before she left. “I should be there around 5:30 this afternoon. If you don’t hear from me, assume I made it one piece.”</p><p> </p><p>Her parents smiled and nodded. Trent and Penny each waved as Jane pulled out of the driveway, heading off to a life of her own.</p><p> </p><p>Trent looked down to his feet after Jane was out of sight. “It’s not gonna be the same around here without her.” He said dejectedly.</p><p> </p><p>Penny patted him on the back, lips pursed as she watched their parents return to the house without another word.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Daria lugged her suitcase down the steps of her house. Her parents had already taken their seats in the SUV, and Helen popped the trunk hatch.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry it along Daria, if you want to meet Jane at 5:30.” She said, motioning to the rear of the vehicle.</p><p> </p><p>Daria sighed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One thing I’m not going to miss is redundant parental nagging. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Coming.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Having tossed her belongings into the rear, she took her seat and buckled up. Quinn came to the door and leaned against the frame, waving. She elected to stay behind for the night while her parents dropped her sister off in Rhode Island.</p><p> </p><p>Helen rolled the window down, “Bye bye, Quinn! We’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.” She assured her.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn grinned. “Of course, mother. Bye, Daria.” She said, locking eyes with her sister.</p><p> </p><p>“Say goodbye to your sister, Daria.” Helen said.</p><p> </p><p>Daria groaned to herself. “Goodbye, Quinn. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn replied “I’ll pass. Bye!” As she closed the door.</p><p> </p><p>Daria turned from the window to her parents.</p><p> </p><p>“Quinn does know I will be home again as soon as Thanksgiving, right? It seems like she thinks I’m leaving for good.” She said sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>Jake waved a hand. “Ah, don’t worry about her. She’ll miss her big sister.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria rolled her eyes incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> She’s just excited to have both of you to herself, all the more opportunity to mooch without competition. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Smirking, Daria relaxed and settled into her seat for the long drive to meet Jane at their new apartment.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn watched out the front window as her parents and sister disappeared down the street.</p><p> </p><p>She took a deep breath and counted to sixty. Finishing the count, she reached for the cordless phone and dialed Sandi’s number.</p><p> </p><p>When her friend answered, Quinn said simply “Sandi, it’s go-time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it.” Sandi replied, and hung up.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Illustrations:</p><p>Janes Pendant - https://imgur.com/Un2QvBa</p><p>Glasses on the Stump - https://imgur.com/JOJTZAb</p><p> </p><p>The Sick, Sad Mixtape on Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/430E5knYrDAfDgAcIBsQjL?si=EbOVDv9JT7Cya6Wg7WqDCg</p><p> </p><p>Authors notes:</p><p>Well, here we are. I hesitate to call this a "mid-way" point in the story because in all honesty what you have read so far, to me, feels more like 1/3rd of the story I intend to tell. Sick, Sad Freshmen is currently sitting at approximately 160 pages (depending on how you measure it) and the word count is already approaching that of a novel.</p><p>This baffles me every time I open the file to work on it. When I said I never, ever expected to write a Daria fanfiction, I was not lying. This has become one of the longest (continuous) pieces of fiction I have ever written, and is a major departure from my typical subject matter.</p><p>Realistic fiction, hard sci-fi and military science fiction are my wheelhouse. Some have asked how my writing style has ended up like "that" and I think I know the answer. My main literary inspiration was drawn chiefly from the likes of William C. Dietz, Brian Jacques, Eric Nylund, Christopher Paolini, Max Brooks and Christie Golden. Quite a varied group of writers, but each of them has left something special with me. I can't explain it, but I maintain a deep appreciation for their work and writing styles, and their influence on me will likely be evident to anyone familiar with books they have authored.</p><p>All this to say, when I applied my writing style to the Daria universe something clicked. I mean really clicked, in my own head. I've never had words come this effortlessly to me, and the resulting work just felt right. Though this is after all technically a first draft with some spots more rough around the edges than others, I intend to develop it and continue writing, and writing, until the story is told. I have an estimation of how long the story will end up being, but it's still too early to share a page or word count with you just yet.</p><p>In closing, I hope you have enjoyed the fic so far as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I have taken some liberties in terms of canon, characterization and timeline up to this point, but hopefully these liberties have spiced up the reading experience somewhat. I am aware of the sheer volume of Daria fanfiction out there already, which is why I set out to break the mould in terms of style and substance, while still anchoring the story in what made Daria such a fantastic show to watch.</p><p>Bear with me through this short hiatus, and feel free to add me on Discord if you want to give feedback, discuss the story, the show or life in general over the coming months. </p><p>Discord - Punished Questing #2049</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Cold blooded in love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And we're back! Apologies for the slightly extended hiatus, there are quite a few boring reasons why it ran a bit longer than expected. I'm back in the saddle now, though, and you can expect a new chapter every ~2 weeks (or sooner, lets be real) for the foreseeable future.</p><p>Please enjoy Chapter 11: Cold blooded in love.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jane grasped the steering wheel with one hand and clutched her pendant in the other. Her mind roiled, each mile she put between herself and home tore at her heart a little more. That feeling worked its way into a lump in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>The tears she feared she would shed in front of her parents and siblings hadn’t come while she stood in the driveway. However, finding herself alone with nothing but thoughts and hundreds of miles of pavement in front of her, those same tears she had successfully fought back now left hot streaks down her face.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shoved the pendant back down her shirt and tensed her jaw. She drove, struggling to find a reason to miss the life she was now driving away from. Tears without justification just pissed her off.</p><p> </p><p>Trent came to mind, of course she would miss him. Jane knew he wouldn’t want her to cry over him, and she didn’t want to. Regardless of this a single hard sob wracked her chest.</p><p> </p><p>Jane wiped her cheeks and took a deep breath. As she blinked through the remaining tears, she suddenly realized what it was. In some kind of light bulb moment of emotional intelligence, she was able to chalk it all up to one thing: Uncertainty.</p><p> </p><p>Wicked, monolithic uncertainty that pervaded the next four years of her life made her feel small. She resented feeling victimized by her own future. It might not have been rational but she couldn’t help herself.</p><p> </p><p>What she could help was the company she kept through it all. Jane turned her thoughts to Daria, the one holdout from the life she was now driving away from. The brief respite from the stress she felt was welcome.</p><p> </p><p>She knew it was dangerous to put that much stock in the presence of another, but for now, it was good enough.</p><p> </p><p>Jane felt a pang of pins and needles in her shoulder, realizing she was extremely tense she loosened her white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and relaxed into her seat.</p><p> </p><p>The doctors may have been quick to rule out major nerve damage as a result of her injury, but the three-inch wound channel left by the knife was now filled with scar tissue, which didn’t play nice with the live nerve endings in her shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Jane grimaced and fished the zippo from her pocket, letting it rest in her palm for a moment as she traced the edge of her thumb over its engraved lettering.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “EVERYTHING BURNS” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Pursing her lips around a cigarette, she pulled it from its package. Following the metallic scrape of flint on steel it was alight, the dull orange flame reflected in her sunglasses. She shoved the zippo back into her pocket, reached for the glove compartment and pulled its latch.</p><p> </p><p>The too-full glove box fell open and she retrieved the highway map contained within. Jane examined the hand-traced route along the eastern seaboard she had drawn. Rest stops were circled, notes and directional reminders were scribbled on looseleaf stapled to one corner.</p><p> </p><p>The paper fluttered in the breeze of her open window and she rolled it up slightly, just enough to control the draft. She committed the first few turns, on and off ramps to memory as she got her bearings straight.</p><p> </p><p>Placing the map on the passenger seat, she took another drag of her smoke and dug her heel into the accelerator. Almost miraculously, an abrupt sense of calm determination washed over her as she did. It was no miracle though, and she didn’t need one.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Time to get to fucking work. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Quinn was giddy as she hung up the phone. She glanced out the window a final time, just to be sure her family was well and truly on their way.</p><p> </p><p>The coast was clear. She bounded up the stairs, into her room where she approached her closet. Whipping the doors ajar she kicked aside loose clothing, shoes and various disused accessories until she came upon the treasure she had been hoarding for months, waiting for this day.</p><p> </p><p>Before her was a large, battered cardboard box wrapped up in duct tape. The letters “DFGP” had been hastily sharpied on its front. An acronym she had coined to enable discrete conversation about her plans while prying ears were present.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “DFGP. Daria Finally Gone Party”. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Quinn beamed, and grunted as she grasped the corners of the box and hoisted it out of her closet. She set it down on her bed and quickly rummaged through her night stand. She produced her pink Swiss Army Knife and got to work unsealing the tape that held the box shut.</p><p> </p><p>As she cut, its’ top popped open. Peering down into it, Quinn eagerly inspected its contents. To her delight, they were in pristine condition.</p><p> </p><p>She ran her fingers over the assorted items. Four bottles of champagne, two bottles of Goldschlager, four cases of Zima. Party whistles, confetti poppers, six cans of silly string as well as the game “Twister”.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn dug deeper into the party-in-a-box. Three separate compact discs, each for use on her parents' living room sound system, contained party music that could bring down the entire neighborhood.</p><p> </p><p>Not least of all, she located the wad of cash secured with one of her own hair elastics. Money to order pizza of course, and enough of it to feed at least fifty people.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Quinn’s short and sweet call to Sandi had initiated an all-hands to the deck phone tag frenzy that involved the rest of the fashion club.</p><p> </p><p>As she stood in her room dozens of friends, friends-of-friends and acquaintances were being notified of the impending party at the Morgendorffer house.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn’s heart fluttered. She drug the box down the stairs to the living room, hastening to chill the plethora of liquor she had procured illegally over the prior months. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to the front windows of her house.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled the curtains from their hooks, closing them before she ended up forgetting to do so. She wasn’t about to risk passers-by ruining her plans. After all, this was the first “parents out of town” house party she had ever hosted, and she wanted it to take the cake.</p><p><br/>Quinn got to work party proofing the house. She closed bedroom doors, arranged tables and seating against walls, laid out cups and bowls for snacks. As she worked, her mind drifted to her sister.</p><p><br/>A slight feeling of guilt crept into her otherwise excitable demeanor. Without admission to another living soul, she came to terms with the fact that she probably would end up missing Daria.</p><p> </p><p>Having had their numerous differences in the past, they were each other's foil after all and the loss of the odd sense of balance that dynamic brought to the Morgendorffer household would be an adjustment.</p><p> </p><p>Though she was about to celebrate Daria’s absence from her life, she did wish her well. Quinn had no doubt at all her sister would be successful in her endeavors.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost a foregone conclusion. Sharp as a tack, stoic as they come. She was Daria, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn sighed to herself.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Forehead pressed against the backseat window of her parents car, Daria’s eyes flitted around the landscape that raced past. Jake and Helen chatted between themselves as she lost herself in thoughts of the next chapter of her life.</p><p> </p><p>A chapter of her life that was now at her doorstep. As thoroughly enthused as she was with the prospect of no longer having to deal with her parents or sister on a day-to-day basis, a slight sense of foreboding edged into her mind.</p><p> </p><p>Daria rationalized this feeling as the result of going to a strange city in which she knew nobody and nothing, where the very streets she would soon walk would be utterly foreign to her for some time to come.</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t entirely accurate, though. She still had the phone number of those two grad students her and Jane had briefly met on campus. Morgue, and Jace.</p><p> </p><p>Daria didn’t want them to amount to some kind of perfect strangers, she couldn’t pass up the potential help the two could offer getting her used to the city and school. Besides, they really did seem like her kind of people.</p><p> </p><p>She still vied for independence. Daria could feel it within her reach, and she wanted to enjoy it for all it was worth. She wanted to share that enjoyment with Jane. For some reason she felt like they both deserved it.</p><p> </p><p>With her thoughts now turned to Jane as they often were as of late, she once again found herself on the verge of desperation to pin down <em> what exactly </em> their relationship was. The not knowing made her hands clammy, and her chest tight with anxiety.</p><p> </p><p>Undefined romantic relationships without some kind of agreed upon boundaries were usually self-terminating in nature. How was she going to articulate that to Jane, though? </p><p> </p><p>She was terrified she would say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Put her foot in her mouth and ruin their relationship entirely. Like she almost did when she went behind Jane’s back with Tom.</p><p> </p><p>A hot wave of shame washed over Daria as she remembered that situation. She wished she could opt out of that portion of her own memory entirely.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I really screwed that up. I really… Really screwed that up. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She rubbed her face and tried to stop her mind from pulling her in a million different directions at once. Too much to think about.</p><p> </p><p>She settled on promising herself she would talk this relationship out with Jane sooner rather than later. Otherwise, it would be like walking on eggshells for as long as they were living together.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria?” Jake said.</p><p> </p><p>She continued to stare out the window, chewing at her thumbnail absently.</p><p> </p><p>“Daria.” Helen echoed, louder this time.</p><p> </p><p>Daria snapped her attention forward. “Oh um, yeah?” She asked, dazed.</p><p> </p><p>“Your father asked if you would like a rest stop. There’s one coming up in a few miles.” Helen stated.</p><p> </p><p>Daria had lost track of time while lost in thought. She took a breath. Her stomach rumbled, she could definitely go for a snack. She nodded to her mother and as they took the next exit, she saw a sign indicating Philadelphia was just forty miles further down the highway.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Huh. Almost a third of the way there. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jane was approaching her own first rest stop of the trip. As she neared her exit she pumped the brakes and glanced down at the fuel gauge, it was just a hair below half full. </p><p> </p><p>She decided to top it up, as well as find whatever sort of caffeinated beverage she could get her hands on.</p><p> </p><p>After cruising into the first gas station-convenience store hybrid she spotted, she pulled up next to one of it’s four gas pumps. Jane shut the engine off and produced her wallet from the center console.</p><p> </p><p>She thumbed through what remained of the cash she had been given as thanks for stopping the mugging, about four hundred dollars, and pulled out what she needed before tossing her wallet back into its cubby.</p><p> </p><p>After filling the Lebarons tank, she replaced the gas cap and made her way into the station store. As she pushed through a splinter ridden wooden door, she immediately became aware of a commotion taking place inside.</p><p> </p><p>Though the store was not busy in the least, two greasy looking yokels were taking turns tossing merchandise at each other, smoking and joking.</p><p> </p><p>Literally, Jane saw one of them was smoking inside the store. Ignoring the two, she proceeded to the drink coolers.</p><p> </p><p>As she perused, she glanced over her shoulder at the attendant who was clearly annoyed with the two doofuses causing trouble. It didn’t seem to her like this was the first time he had to deal with this.</p><p> </p><p>Settling on a Red Bull, she pulled it from the cooler and approached the cashier. Before ringing up her order, the cashier banged a hand on his booth.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey you back there, you can’t smoke in here. Please step outside and extinguish your cigarette, thank you.” He insisted.</p><p> </p><p>The two yokels glanced at each other, smirking.</p><p> </p><p>“Please step outside and fuck off, thank you.” One replied, then the two burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>Jane snorted, shaking her head as she set her drink on the counter. The bumpkin dragging his cheap smoke noticed this and they were now making their way to the front of the store.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’all got something you want to say, do ya?” He asked Jane pointedly.</p><p> </p><p>Jane didn’t look at him, replying “If I did I would have said it already.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ten in gas on pump two and the drink. Keep the change,” Jane said and placed her money on the counter. She took her drink and made her way for the door, acutely aware of the two goons hustling up behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Here, lemme get th’ door for ya.” One said, leering at her.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged, “No thanks.” She exited with the two yokels in tail.</p><p> </p><p>One shoved his hands in his pockets, saying “Ya don’t look like ya from around here, girlie.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane turned briefly. “Thankfully I’m not,” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>The two men snickered at her. The other piped up, “Maybe we can show ya the sites an’ whatnot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got a long drive ahead of me. So thanks, but no thanks.” Jane declined.</p><p> </p><p>The two were pushy, and getting pushier. It didn’t sit right with her. Jane cracked the door of the Lebaron and moved to get in when one of the men placed his hand on the edge of the doorframe, stopping her from opening it.</p><p> </p><p>Jane’s eyes went to his hand, then to his face. Staring daggers, she straightened back up and faced the two.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you don’t wanna see th’ sites, maybe we could see yours…” He said, looking Jane up and down.</p><p> </p><p>“No sale. Back off.” She said, her voice low and dripping with disdain.</p><p> </p><p>The two goons laughed, “Nobody tells us what to fuckin’ do” one said, stepping into Jane's personal space. The other man nudged him, egging him on.</p><p> </p><p>“Final warning, fuckwad.” Jane said.</p><p> </p><p>The other yokel spat on the ground. “Uppity bitch, aren’t ya?”</p><p> </p><p>“Or what?” the yokel closest to her asked, blowing cigarette smoke in Jane’s face as he did.</p><p> </p><p>“Or I let you pick.” Jane stated calmly.</p><p> </p><p>“Pick? Pick what?” The closest goon questioned.</p><p> </p><p>Jane crossed her arms. “I’ll let you pick whether you die here on the concrete, or in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.”</p><p> </p><p>She pulled closer to the goons face. “Back. Off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hah! Oh, today just ain’t yer lucky day…” The yokel says, suddenly grabbing Jane by her jacket collar.</p><p> </p><p>In an instant her adrenal glands emptied into her bloodstream and the world around her sharpened, time slowed to a crawl.</p><p> </p><p>Her fingers prickled painfully, the sound of her own breathing roared in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>Jane drove her knee into the man’s crotch, crushing his testicles against his pelvis and he doubled over screaming but was quickly silenced by choking vomit that poured from his mouth onto the ground at his feet.</p><p> </p><p>Jane widened her stance and brought her elbow down onto the base of his neck, the force of the brutal strike causing him to fall unconscious face-first into his own throwup.</p><p> </p><p>Jane ducked and the haymaker from the other goon coming toward her head impacted the body of the Lebaron with a nauseating crunch. The yokel yelped, pulling his sprained hand back, grasping it against his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Jane took two steps over the body of the first man and pulled the gas pump nozzle from its holder. She grasped the hose with both hands, the man's eyes widened as he saw the look on Jane’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Wh- what’re you doing!?” He stammered, stumbling as he tried to back away.</p><p> </p><p>Jane forced her reply through gritted teeth. “Giving you what you deserve.”</p><p> </p><p>In a futile attempt to protect himself the man raised his uninjured hand above his head, slamming his eyes shut.</p><p> </p><p>Jane swung the nozzle in a long vertical arc overhead. The unyielding edges of the galvanized steel pump head shattered his hand against his skull incapacitating him in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>Jane looked to both bodies that lay at her feet. Her scornful expression faded as she took a few breaths, and set the gas nozzle back into its receptacle.</p><p> </p><p>The station intercom crackled, and the attendant's voice met Jane's ears.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw what happened, and I’m calling the cops. If you get the hell out of here in the next thirty seconds I will pretend they did that to each other, act like you were never here.”</p><p> </p><p>Jane turned her attention to the store window where the attendant was standing, phone in hand, intercom mic in the other. She gave an appreciative nod.</p><p> </p><p>The first man she dealt with was starting to come to, he groaned weakly and raised a hand toward her.</p><p> </p><p>Jane booted it out of the way dismissively and stepped back over him into the Lebaron. She hit the ignition and peeled out of the gas station.</p><p> </p><p>She shuddered, untied her ponytail and ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had an adrenaline rush like that since, well…</p><p> </p><p>Her hands weren’t shaking. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She was starting to get used to this. The adrenaline rush that makes most people lose control, panic. She was subconsciously learning to wield it, letting it turn her body into a weapon.</p><p> </p><p>The goosebumps, the taste of dry metal on her tongue, the icy tingle in her limbs when she engaged an opponent. It was becoming addictive. She questioned what led her to this increased tendency for violence.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> When I’m in a fight… Everything is so simple. One goal, raw instinct. Strike or be struck. No time to second-guess myself. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t become some sort of fucking violent adrenaline junkie. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jane bit her lip. She tapped the steering wheel anxiously. She could no longer tell if she was going too far. She couldn’t afford to let mindless cruelty bleed into what was otherwise self defense. Jane sat up straighter in her seat. She couldn’t tell Daria about this. It would only make her worry. </p><p> </p><p>Jane knew she had to figure herself out before someone else could figure her out.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Daria unbuckled her seat belt and hopped down from her seat in the SUV. She stretched out onto her tip-toes, yawning as she did. Helen was leaning against the hood, stretching her hamstrings as Jake fueled up.</p><p> </p><p>Daria’s hunger for junk food was growing by the minute, so she made her way into the large truck stop she found herself at.</p><p> </p><p>The worn-out wind chime mounted above the double doors clanked as she entered. With a few minutes to spare, Daria observed the interior of the store and decided to check out the awful, tacky gift aisle that any truck stop worth its salt always had.</p><p> </p><p>She noticed one of the signs hanging from the ceiling read “Souvenirs”.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The kind of souvenirs that get you uninvited from family reunions. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Approaching the aisle, she swept her eyes left and right. Mini confederate flags, dragon snow globes, skull emblazoned tee shirts, and of course ultra trashy sex joke bumper stickers to name just a few of these “souvenirs”.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Called it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>As she proceeded down the aisle she stopped in her tracks, smug smile cracking as she came upon a small display case of brass knuckles. They were identical to the ones Jane had used the night of the concert.</p><p> </p><p>Daria's eyes became stuck on them. Her mind involuntarily leapt back to the moment she watched Jane toss that gore-stained weapon out the window of the Lebaron into the woods. Her breathing became shallow, anxiety formed a painful grip on her throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Does Jane ever think about that night anymore..? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nasty business those things,” Jake said as he approached from behind causing Daria to jump.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard on TV they are illegal in Canada. Those Canucks got the right idea if you ask me. So, you ready to hit the road kiddo?” He continued, cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, just a minute.” Daria replied, tearing her eyes from the weaponry and heading off toward the snack aisle.</p><p> </p><p>After paying up, she returned to the car and settled in. Her eyes were fatigued from staring through glasses, through a car window at the world outside. She took them off, mostly unconcerned with her surroundings becoming blurry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> On drives like this, it all starts to look kind of the same after a while anyway. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria sighed quietly and buckled her seat belt. She really just wanted the trip to Providence to be over already.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Too much time to think. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Daria cracked her can of Coke. “I hate being an adult.” She said. </p><p> </p><p>Only after finishing the last syllable of the word “adult” did she realize she accidentally said that out loud.</p><p> </p><p>Helen turned in her seat, bemused by the sudden comment. “Well Daria, be that as it may it’s something pretty much everyone in the world has to learn to live with.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria took a long sip of her drink.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Damn. “Unfortunately correct” is the worst kind of correct. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Veneralia Sundown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been quite a while since I've put up a huge chapter, so I decided to run long on this one at about 20 or so pages. As well, check the chapter end notes when you're finished reading for an approximate floor plan of Jane and Daria's new apartment!</p>
<p>Also, if you haven't been paying attention to content warnings attached to this fic, I would recommend reviewing them before continuing with this chapter. VERY not safe for work.</p>
<p>Please enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When the first knock finally came, Quinn knew exactly who it was before she opened the door. Sandi flanked by Stacy and Tiffany were the initial guests to her party, just as planned. Quinn motioned for them to enter and poked her head outside giving a suspicious glance around, checking for nosy neighbours. All clear.</p>
<p>Once Quinn had joined the fashion club in her living room, Sandi gave an impressed nod at the spread of party supplies Quinn had hoarded over the past few months. They placed their own party offerings they had brought on the table along with the others.</p>
<p>“Wow Quinn… You went all out… Cool.” Tiffany said.</p>
<p>Sandi stuck a hand in her pocket, pulling out the fake ID that had allowed her to “assist” Quinn in acquiring a vast majority of the alcohol on the premises.</p>
<p>“Good thing my cousin is like some kind of savant when it comes to making bogus ID’s, huh Quinn?” Sandi half-bragged, waving the card in the air.</p>
<p>“Yeah Sandi, good thing…” Quinn said as she passed out bottles of Zima.</p>
<p>It was an extremely well made fake, she had to admit. She considered getting her own but talked herself out of it after considering she looked even younger than Sandi, not that she would say that to Sandi’s face, so the risk of getting caught was just too high to justify it.</p>
<p>After cracking her Zima, Stacy handed the bottle opener off to Tiffany and took a swig. She held the bottle of cloudy liquid out in front of her, a surprised expression on her face.</p>
<p>“Hey, this stuff is actually pretty good. Hopefully it doesn’t end up discontinued or anything.” She quipped, taking another sip.</p>
<p>Tiffany, Sandi and Quinn indulged as well, all in agreement it was in fact a quality drink. No sooner had Quinn finished loading the first CD into her living room stereo system did another knock signify the beginning of the arrival of other party goers.</p>
<p>Eventually, the living room began to bustle with people. Some Quinn recognized, others she didn’t, however the other members of the fashion club seemed to be keen to fill each other in on who they had invited.</p>
<p>Seated in the “VIP area” Quinn had set up specially for the club, which consisted of couches pushed into the corner of the room, the four kept a keen eye out for the most important part of any party- hot guys.</p>
<p>As more people began to show, they became less and less familiar to the fashion club, which was to be expected as guests of guests were allowed. Still on the hunt for house party hunks, Quinn took the liberty of popping a bottle of champagne, which drew a cheer from the crowd.</p>
<p>She poured a glass for each of the four of them and together they left their spot at the VIP area to begin mingling, all the while scoping for the right kind of guy.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Trent approached the passenger door of the car in front of him, and knocked on the roof. The man inside gave a motion to enter. Trent pulled the door open and sat down.</p>
<p>He shifted in the passenger seat slightly, hanging one arm out the window. Used to being in the driver seat, it felt awkward. He tapped his fingers against his knee rhythmically.</p>
<p>Glancing at the driver briefly, Trent turned his eyes back out the window before he spoke. “Look, Spiral appreciates the food and the gas money. We couldn’t have made the show in Gaithersburg happen without it,” he said, glazing over the incident that occurred that night.</p>
<p>The driver was relaxed in his seat, nodding, eyes closed in contemplation.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if you can help me on this one though. She already left, earlier today. Out of state.” Trent continued, dejection creeping into his voice.</p>
<p>“She’s grown up. She’s her own woman. On a bit of a war path, though. I’m just worried about her. I don’t mean to wring you for favours or anything.” Trent said.</p>
<p>Trent was incredulous that the man sitting beside him, a self-proclaimed patron of the arts he knew only as “The Benefactor” could be of meaningful help in this situation. </p>
<p>That situation being Trent wanted to ensure Jane would have in-person help available to her as far away as Rhode Island, if need be. It killed him to think it would just be her and Daria alone hundreds of miles away from home.</p>
<p>He knew he was probably- definitely worrying over nothing. Jane could undoubtedly take care of herself. It was more of a “Plan B” than anything.</p>
<p>Peace of mind for a worried brother.</p>
<p>Having met The Benefactor only a few months prior after the man stumbled upon one of Mystik Spirals’ mix tapes and reached out to them, he had begun both feeding and funding the bands endeavours. Trent was anxious he might accidentally bite the hand that feeds.</p>
<p>“I’m open to uh… Suggestions, or whatever though.” Trent said.</p>
<p>The Benefactor opened his eyes slowly, giving a quiet chuckle. “You underestimate me, Trent,” he said in a gravelly voice with an accent Trent absolutely couldn’t place.</p>
<p>“Oh, no- I didn’t mean to-” Trent backpedaled.</p>
<p>The Benefactor raised a hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Here.”</p>
<p>He reached into his breast pocket and produced a small, ornate silver business card holder along with a mother-of-pearl pen accented in gold. He slid a card from its holder, turned its blank side face-up, wrote a phone number on it and handed it to Trent.</p>
<p>He took it and read the small, neat calligraphy before him. Trent watched as jet black ink soaked into the coarse papyrus card stock then gave The Benefactor a quizzical look.</p>
<p>“My personal Red-Line. Give it to your sister. She can call it any time, anywhere in the continental United States and someone will be there in minutes.” The Benefactor explained.</p>
<p>Trent raised an eyebrow. “Okay then… Who uh- who is ‘someone’?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Professionals. ‘Fixers’ if you will. Highly capable and exceptionally discrete.” The Benefactor replied.</p>
<p>Trent chewed his thumbnail. “Shit, seriously? That’s… Thanks.” He said quietly.</p>
<p>The Benefactor gave a thin smile. “Of course, Trent. Was that all that was on your mind?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess that’s it. I appreciate-” Trent held the card up, “... This.”</p>
<p>They said their farewells and Trent stepped out of the car. The Benefactor pulled away, and Trent slid the business card into his pocket. He rubbed his face hard and sighed, craning his head back.</p>
<p>“Don’t even know the fuckin’ guys real name.” He said out loud to himself, before walking back to his Acclaim, hopping in and pulling the door shut behind him.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun was edging closer to the western horizon when Jane finally arrived at 52 Ogden street. She glanced at the Lebarons dashboard digitizer before she pushed the door open.</p>
<p>“Five twenty-eight. Not bad,” she said aloud to herself, satisfied with arriving two minutes ahead of schedule. Not to mention, she had also beaten the Morgendorffers to the apartment as well. Jane imagined they were likely more liberal with rest stops than she had been. Especially considering what had happened at her first one.</p>
<p>Luckily, the remainder of her drive was peaceful enough to allow her to unwind as the miles of highway passed. Jane stretched out, relishing the feeling of extending to her full height after being stuffed into the over packed Lebaron for nearly six hours.</p>
<p>Jane turned on her heels, continuing her stretches and cast her eyes up to her new apartment. Shadows of tree branches danced over the weathered siding, catching visages of birds flitting back and forth between bows. Their songs seemed distant and saccharine.</p>
<p>The rustle of leaves accompanied this, moved by a dry but not unpleasant breeze. She took a deep breath, the air was clean and carried the nameless smell of late summer. The calmness she felt in that moment kept her glued to where she stood. She found herself enraptured, wordlessly thankful for the fleeting moment of tranquility.</p>
<p>Jane snapped her attention to the front door as it opened. From inside, the realtor and a clean-cut man in his mid 30’s she assumed was the landlord appeared and made their way onto the front porch, each giving an enthusiastic wave. Jane waved back.</p>
<p>At the same time, she also noticed the moving truck the Morgendorffers had chartered was nowhere to be found. It hadn’t crossed her mind earlier, but she could only imagine it should have arrived by this point.</p>
<p>“Jane! Welcome welcome!” The realtor said, incredibly thick Boston accent still no less amusing to Jane even now. She motioned to the man beside her. “This is the owner of the property.”</p>
<p>The man stepped forward, offering his hand. “Name’s Geoff.” He said.</p>
<p>Jane grasped his hand, “Nice to meet you. Jane Lane.” She replied.</p>
<p>“Likewise. So you would be the one subletting from Helen and Jake Morgendorffer.” Geoff figured.</p>
<p>Jane nodded “You got it. The Morgendorffers are the ones making this all happen,” she said, gesturing to the apartment.</p>
<p>The distinct sound of tires on gravel made the three on the porch turn their attention to the driveway. Daria and her parents had arrived, and as the car rolled to a stop Daria was the first to hop out. She rounded the vehicle, and opened the trunk to retrieve her bags.</p>
<p>Helen was in the passenger seat, an exhausted expression on her face as she spoke into her cellphone. Jake unfastened his seat belt but didn’t exit, brow furrowed as he was a party to the conversation beside him.</p>
<p>Daria strode up to the porch, dropping her suitcase and backpack at the top of the steps.</p>
<p>“Hey kid.” Jane said with a crooked smile.</p>
<p>Daria stretched and replied “Hey.”</p>
<p>Jane motioned to Daria's parents. “Everything alright?”</p>
<p>“The moving truck got delayed, apparently getting it here by this evening is a no-go,” Daria said with a shrug. As she did, Helen hung up and pushed her phone antenna shut with her palm, stepping out of the car along with Jake.</p>
<p>“Unbelievable.” Helen muttered, making her way to the porch.</p>
<p>“Unbelievable!” Jake echoed as he followed in his wife’s frustrated wake.</p>
<p>Helen fixed her hair briefly and straightened the jacket of her pantsuit. “The truck was pulled over by Connecticut State Troopers for speeding and it turns out their vehicle registration had expired. A new one is being faxed out tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>Jane slapped a palm to her face as Daria let out an exasperated groan.</p>
<p>Jake shook his head. “I’ll tell ya, that’s the first and last time we ship with ‘Richard’s Budget Movers’!” He said.</p>
<p>“Darn. That’s unfortunate.” Geoff interjected.</p>
<p>Helen let out a sharp sigh, smiling wearily at the realtor. “Sorry about all that. Good afternoon, Shelly. Geoff, Jane.” </p>
<p>Geoff and Shelly stepped aside, allowing Jane and the Morgendorffers to enter the apartment. “We may as well get the handover started, then!” Shelly said.</p>
<p>Jane and Daria glanced at each other.</p>
<p>
  <em> More real property formalities. Yay. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Quinn judged her party was reaching maximum capacity. Dozens of people thronged in the living room, kitchen, even occupying the staircase. Some had brought their own beverages from elsewhere and the alcohol flowed.</p>
<p>Dancing, party games and jocks engaged in shirtless wrestling matches began to turn the mood rowdy. By this time, the fashion club had successfully selected their man-meat and were now formulating a game plan.</p>
<p>Their marks were a group of three men who had posted up by the drink table. The demeanor of the boys the fashion club had spotted stood out, one of quiet aloofness, enhanced by their stylishly out of place business casual and strikingly good looks.</p>
<p>Tiffany locked eyes on one of the three. “I kind of want to like… Tag-team him with you, Stacey…” She admitted before shooting the rest of her champagne.</p>
<p>Stacey’s eyes widened, “Tiffany are you serious!?” She blurted and followed her friends gaze to the boy she was scoping. Once she had a visual, her expression changed.</p>
<p>“Okay, I get where you’re coming from now.” Stacey conceded.</p>
<p>Quinn and Sandi stifled a giggle, having overheard their two friend’s raunchy plans. The reality was, though, Sandi and Quinn now had plans of their own.</p>
<p>Quinn would go for the one in the tan blazer, Sandi would go for the one in the polished wingtips. They would swoop in taking time to talk each other up to their respective mark, and at the last minute they would switch out and move in for the kill once each hunk was good and buttered up.</p>
<p>A somewhat convoluted but tried-and-true plan of attack that leveraged most men’s habit of trying to “go with the flow” at a party, especially when it came to women.</p>
<p>Thoroughly absorbed in the fashion clubs scheming and mildly buzzed, Quinn had failed to notice more people appearing through the front door. Instead of plus-ones, people were arriving with plus-fours and fives.</p>
<p>As the fashion club prepared to make their move, her ignorant bliss was disturbed by the realization that fewer and fewer recognizable faces occupied the living room. It was now literally standing room only, and the liquor was being ransacked.</p>
<p>She swallowed hard steadied herself and pushed through the crowd having to sidestep people trying to dance with her as she did. The sea of people threatened to close in on her as she reached the front door, grasping the deadbolt and throwing it into place with a <em> clunk. </em></p>
<p>Quinn sighed, satisfied that would ward off any further errant party-seekers. The rest of the fashion club seemed wholly unconcerned the gathering had exploded past their expected forty or fifty people and was now approaching what Quinn could only estimate to be eighty plus.</p>
<p>She jumped at the sound of a bottle shattering, followed by drunken cheering. Anxiety that the party might be getting out of control crept into the back of her mind. Quinn cast an almost frantic glance around the room as N-Trance’s mix of “<em> Stayin’ Alive </em>” thumped against her ear drums.</p>
<p>After taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. She swore an oath to herself, making a conscious decision to not care. She was going to party.</p>
<p>She set eyes back on the group of boys she had been ogling earlier, fixed her hair and pushed her bra up to maximize what cleavage she had and made her approach.</p>
<p>
  <em> Consequences are a tomorrow morning thing, anyway. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Geoff the landlord had laid out house rules, after-hours emergency info and tenancy guidelines and the realtor handed over the keys before they said their goodbyes, leaving Jane and the Morgendorffers to do with the apartment what they saw fit.</p>
<p>The four watched Geoff and Shelly leave. Jane nudged Daria, “I’ve always resented the concept of landlords.” She said derisively.</p>
<p>“Same. Luckily he seems like one of the reasonable ones.” Daria replied.</p>
<p>Jake approached Jane from the kitchen, “What do you say I give you hand lugging your mattress up to your room?” He offered.</p>
<p>Jane nodded, “Sounds good. I appreciate the help.”</p>
<p>She and Jake made their way outside and Jane pulled a rag from her glove box. Inspecting the forward-facing end of the mattress with a look of disgust, she used the rag to brush off dead bugs that had gotten caught in the fabric during the journey to Providence.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Jake loosened the knotted rope strapping that secured the bed to the roof of the Lebaron. They carefully slid it off the roof and got to work dragging it onto the porch and manoeuvring it through the front doorway.</p>
<p>Daria dropped her suitcase and backpack on the floor of her room. The fading sunlight that poured in through her window illuminated a distorted rectangle on the floor. She stared at her luggage in silence.</p>
<p>The otherwise completely empty floor and walls felt desperately lonesome, and a brief jolt of anxiety struck her chest, but she was quick to squash it down.</p>
<p>Daria rubbed her face and ran her hands through her hair a few times before tearing her eyes from the forlorn looking luggage in front of her.</p>
<p>Having gotten Jane's mattress situated in her room, Jake dusted himself off. “Well that’s that.” He said and made his way back downstairs, as did Jane. Once the four had gathered in the living room, Helen and Jake set about saying their goodbyes to Daria.</p>
<p>Jake spoke up first, “We would stay and help you unpack and settle in, kiddo, but—” </p>
<p>Helen, already tearful, finished his sentence. “With the truck delayed, your sister at home and the drive back still ahead of us…” She trailed off.</p>
<p>Daria put a hand up, “You guys don’t have to apologize. I get it.”</p>
<p>Jane took a step back from the group and picked up her duffle bag. She didn’t want to encroach on their parting words, saying “I’ll give you some privacy.” She turned and made her way back up the stairs to her room.</p>
<p>Daria watched her go, and was suddenly hugged by both Jake and Helen at the same time. “We love you so much Daria, and we’re both so proud of you.” Helen said.</p>
<p>Daria’s throat tightened, a knot formed as she remembered why she wasn't a fan of sappy goodbyes. Jake and Helen released her from the hug, and Jake reached for his inside breast pocket.</p>
<p>“Aha, almost forgot.” He said.</p>
<p>Daria eyed the front of his coat, “Hm?” She said.</p>
<p>He produced a small brown envelope, holding it up for Daria to see.</p>
<p>“Housewarming money. From your father and I.” Helen explained. “To stock your fridge, and maybe get some curtains,” she continued and grimaced as she motioned to the bare windows all around them.</p>
<p>“Oh, and a plunger! Definitely a plunger,” Jake added over-enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“Erm, yes. Also a plunger.” Helen agreed.</p>
<p>Daria raised an eyebrow at the strange yet sound suggestion.</p>
<p>
  <em> I guess you never really think about the need for a plunger until it's too late. </em>
</p>
<p>Daria lifted the lip of the envelope and retrieved the cheque within, consciously having to stop her jaw from dropping when she saw the amount.</p>
<p>
  <em> Holy shit, a thousand dollars? </em>
</p>
<p>She blinked, then read the memo line aloud. “For our daughter, with love and confidence from two proud parents. Love you lots.” Daria slid the cheque back into the envelope and hugged her parents.</p>
<p>“Thank you both. Really.” She said.</p>
<p>After a few final parting words and tears from both Helen and Jake, Daria walked with them to the front door, and closed it behind them as they left.</p>
<p>Jane had set about the task of attempting to make her mostly empty room someone livable, at least for the night. When she heard the Morgendorffers SUV pull out of the driveway, she descended the stairs and once again joined Daria in the living room.</p>
<p>“Well…” Daria said and gestured broadly to their surroundings. “Here we are.”</p>
<p>Jane snorted. “Here we fucking are,” she said and motioned to the envelope Daria held.</p>
<p>“What’s with the envelope?” She asked.</p>
<p>Daria raised her eyebrows, glanced down at it saying “A gift from dear old mom and dad,” and pulled the cheque out once again and held it up at eye level for Jane to see.</p>
<p>Jane squinted to read the print on its face. “A grand? Damn, Daria.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, damn.” Daria agreed.</p>
<p>Jane chewed her lip in thought, “So between that and what's left of my ‘sorry you got stabbed’ money, we have a solid fourteen-hundred dollars cash on hand.” She figured.</p>
<p>Daria nodded, “Not too shabby.”</p>
<p>Jane walked into the kitchen and grabbed that day's newspaper, which had been left as a courtesy by the landlord, Daria followed briefly behind her.</p>
<p>“I’ll comb through some classifieds and try to zero in on some cheap furniture.” Jane said. She glanced up from the paper she held in front of her.</p>
<p>“Unless your parents figured you would sleep on the floor tonight, I guess they assumed you would just bunk with me, huh?” Jane asked.</p>
<p>Daria glanced at her feet, having felt her cheeks redden. “I guess. Let’s see, cold hard ground or bed with my devilishly attractive new roommate, what a tough call that is.” She replied with a kind of sarcastic sincerity.</p>
<p>Jane snickered at Daria's sidelong complement.</p>
<p>Daria skirted around where Jane stood at the counter and reached for the phone book sitting under one of the kitchen cabinets. It was covered in drywall dust, clearly unmoved since before the kitchen had been renovated.</p>
<p>She shook the dust off of it prompting a loud, high-pitched sneeze from Jane.</p>
<p>“I think this is the first time I have ever heard you sneeze. Cute.” Daria teased.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Jane replied with a chuckle.</p>
<p>Daria eyed the footer text printed on the phone book's cover. “Providence telephone and business directory, date of issue January 2nd, 1998.” She read aloud.</p>
<p>Jane smirked, “More recent than I expected.” She folded the classifieds and set them on the kitchen island.</p>
<p>“Looking for something in particular?” She asked.</p>
<p>Daria thumbed to the business section. “Yeah, I was hoping to nail down a good pizza place nearby as soon as possible,” she replied matter-of-factly.</p>
<p>Jane gave a breathy, exaggerated sigh. “I do love a woman who has her priorities straight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandi and Quinn’s dual wing man switch up plan had worked like a charm. With the doors now locked, the party and general attitude of the room had begun to stabilize. Each of the four members of the fashion club were now putting the moves on the group of boys they had been enamored with since laying eyes on them.</p>
<p>Tiffany and Stacey were getting handsy with a guy who’s name Quinn had missed. Apparently they were going to follow through with the tag-teaming initiative they had dreamed up earlier, Quinn had to hand it to them, they were women of their word.</p>
<p>Sandi had her arm around the waist of a man named Evan and she seemed quite content with her choice. Quinn’s pet project for the evening however, went by the name of Matt.</p>
<p>She threw her arms around his neck as they attempted to speak over the music and noise of the crowd in the background. “So, what school do you go to?” She asked.</p>
<p>Matt put a hand on the small of Quinn’s back and leaned in, speaking next to her ear. “I’m a senior at Hillcrest Academy.” He replied.</p>
<p>Quinn gave an impressed “Ooh”, as Hillcrest Academy was one of the most competitive and highly regarded private high schools in the state.</p>
<p>“You?” Matt asked.</p>
<p>Quinn shrugged, “Oh me? Lawndale High. Yuck, right? Say, isn’t Hillcrest kind of… Exclusive?” She questioned, playing up her ditzy side.</p>
<p>Sandi had pulled her partner closer to where Quinn was standing and happened to overhear the word “Hillcrest”.</p>
<p>Matt thought for a moment, before answering “I mean, I guess it is if you can’t afford it.”</p>
<p>Quinn stifled a cringe at the surprisingly vapid answer.</p>
<p>“So what do your parents do?” She questioned, trying her hardest to stay interested.</p>
<p>“Oh uh, my mom is a prosecutor for the district attorney's office and my dad is the chief financial officer for IBM.” Matt replied.</p>
<p>Having heard this, Sandi’s jaw dropped and she shot a pointed look at Quinn, who was also equally blown away by the revelation. Sandi nudged her, and made a face that screamed “<em> do something”. </em></p>
<p>Quinn got the message, and facing up to Matt, she kissed him abruptly. Matt recoiled slightly before enthusiastically reciprocating.</p>
<p>On a mission to ensure this shockingly rich young man would be paying attention solely to her for the rest of the evening, she slipped him just enough tongue to keep him wondering what would happen next.</p>
<p>It worked.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Having walked to pick up the pizza they had ordered, dusk deepened around them as they sat on the porch enjoying their meal.</p>
<p>Once finished, they relished the cool night air and each other's company in silent agreement that they weren’t ready to return indoors quite yet.</p>
<p>Daria closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then gave a quiet yawn.</p>
<p>“You know, even though I had less than no expectations for this place, it's actually a pretty nice neighbourhood.” She admitted.</p>
<p>Jane was rolling her shoulder back and forth slowly as her eyes followed the dim trails of fireflies that shone from the shrubbery lining the road in front of them.</p>
<p>“You know, I’m inclined to agree,” she said before she stood and approached the Lebaron.</p>
<p>Daria watched her go. She could see Jane motion to her in the darkness. “Give me a hand carrying a couple more things up to my room?” She asked.</p>
<p>Daria gave a quick nod and joined her by the car.</p>
<p>Two loads of miscellaneous “Jane stuff” later, she was now satisfied her room could in fact sustain life. Though bare-bones, the mattress now had blankets and pillows. There was an upturned milk crate that served as a nightstand, her boombox was placed in one corner.</p>
<p>Of course, her easel had been set up and primed with the single blank canvas she had brought with her. Jane's clothes and toiletries were still stuffed into her duffel bag that was pressed up against one wall, but it would be a serviceable hamper until she could locate an actual dresser.</p>
<p>Daria looked around briefly, saying “It’s a start.” Though it wasn’t much, it was still more than could be said for her own bedroom.</p>
<p>Jane popped one of her mix tapes into the boombox and hit play before she kicked off her boots in the hallway next to her door, tossing her jacket onto her duffel bag. Daria did the same.</p>
<p>Now in a short-sleeve shirt, Daria noticed Jane's bruised and reddened elbow.</p>
<p>“What happened to your arm?” Daria asked, pointing to the bruise.</p>
<p>Jane glanced at it and covered it with her offhand. “Oh, that? I uh, banged it while I was loading stuff into the Lebaron,” she replied sheepishly.</p>
<p>Daria crossed her arms. Jane could tell she wasn’t buying it. She also thought about the resolution she had made to herself not to tell Daria.</p>
<p>Tensing her jaw, Jane caved. “Okay… I didn’t bang my elbow loading the car. I didn’t want to tell you what happened because I didn’t want you to worry.”</p>
<p>Daria’s stern look softened slightly before Jane continued.</p>
<p>“But I don’t want to start the next part of our lives with a lie.” Jane said.</p>
<p>“I stopped for gas in Pennsylvania, middle of nowhere. These two guys… Hillbillies, put their hands on me. Well, one of them did. I gave them plenty of warning to back off and they just wouldn’t fucking listen…” Jane explained and sat down on her mattress.</p>
<p>Daria sat down beside her and placed a hand on Jane’s knee. “And?” She asked.</p>
<p>“They… They were both alive when I left.” Jane said as a pained expression creased her face.</p>
<p>Daria rubbed the back of her neck for a moment before she spoke. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Jane glanced over to her, confused. “Thank me? For what?” She asked.</p>
<p>“For respecting me enough to just tell the truth.” Daria explained. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Jane’s eyes searched Daria's face for a moment. She was about to speak, but was prevented from doing so by Daria’s kiss.</p>
<p>Daria threw her arms over Jane’s shoulders, pulling her in closer and she fumbled to remove her glasses. Their kiss deepened quickly, becoming almost frantic at its peak. Longing translated into desperate displays of affection as they grasped at each other.</p>
<p>Their hearts pounded in time with the ragged breaths they each took from between locked lips. Daria couldn’t help but focus on the slick hot feeling of Jane’s tongue against her own.</p>
<p>Goosebumps trailed down Daria’s back as Jane pulled a hand through her hair, and Daria gripped at the hem of Jane’s shirt, then pulled it slightly upward.</p>
<p>Jane raised her arms allowing Daria to pull it completely off, their kiss had to be broken momentarily to let her collar pass between their faces. Jane did the same for Daria.</p>
<p>Full bodied yearning tore at everything that made them human, and Jane deftly unfastened Daria’s bra with one hand letting it fall away. The sensation of cool air Daria’s exposed nipples caused her to shiver slightly. Jane drank in the visible excitement that overcame Daria’s body.</p>
<p>Jane pulled her own bra off, tossed it aside and leaned back and motioned for Daria to indulge in whatever way she saw fit.</p>
<p>Daria needed no further coaxing, she placed her lips against Jane’s chest between her breasts, kissing her gingerly. She worked her way down to Jane’s navel, the last kiss ended her off just below Jane’s belly button.</p>
<p>As she did this, she was acutely aware of the peach fuzz that stood out against Jane’s lightly tanned skin as it tickled her nose, making her face scrunch up. Daria stifled a giggle at this, and popped the button of Jane’s shorts open.</p>
<p>Jane bit a knuckle, caught completely off-guard as Daria followed this up by lowering Jane’s zipper with her teeth, something completely out of character from the Daria she knew.</p>
<p>Daria grasped Jane’s waistband and gave a hard pull, drawing a soft moan from Jane who raised her hips allowing her pants to be removed. Jane spread her legs and Daria let her eyes fall to Jane’s panties. All black, with a small scarlet bow affixed the waist seam.</p>
<p>Daria placed a hand over Jane’s heat, the wetness she felt through her panties struck her in the gut and Jane’s breath caught as she rubbed gently.</p>
<p>The hunger Daria felt for Jane’s body wracked her mind, each heartbeat pumped scorching desire into her veins as her breathing became laboured.</p>
<p>Daria desperately kicked out of her skirt, pulled her own panties off and winced as the itch within her abdomen became helplessly, profoundly deep. She slid a finger down to her clit, rubbed gently and took a sharp breath.</p>
<p>Jane suddenly straightened up. “Wait.” She said, scrambling over to her duffel bag.</p>
<p>As Jane rummaged through the bag, Daria cocked her head to one side. “Huh?” She questioned.</p>
<p>“Aha!” Jane exclaimed, turning back to Daria now brandishing a deep-violet coloured strap on dildo.</p>
<p>Daria was at a loss for words. She looked from Jane’s face, back to the strap on, then back to Jane’s face. She was serious.</p>
<p>Jane grinned wide and asked, “So whaddya think of this little number? Responsible use of forty dollars or what?” She joked.</p>
<p>At a loss for words, Daria was completely and utterly flustered.</p>
<p>“Jane, wh- where did- why, that’s just… What?” Daria stammered, continuously turning her gaze between the strap on and the enthusiastic expression plastered on Jane’s face. </p>
<p>She took a moment to compose herself.</p>
<p>“I mean, I am up for trying it. It goes without saying though that I’ve never actually taken a dick before. Or a dildo.” Daria explained, wondering why she felt so self-conscious to say as much.</p>
<p>Jane gave an understanding nod, “I get it, but with the apparent unavailability of good dick I figured we could at least make do with this.” She said, gesturing to the strap.</p>
<p>Daria chewed her bottom lip in thought. “You have a good point.” She conceded.</p>
<p>“Even though I’ve recently come to appreciate pussy, I really can’t see myself giving up dick cold turkey.” Jane added with a genuine but slightly embarrassed smile.</p>
<p>Daria stifled a laugh, “Don’t put the words ‘cold turkey’ and ‘dick’ in the same sentence ever again. I more or less feel the same, though.”</p>
<p>Jane’s face turned serious. “So. Who’s fucking and who’s getting fucked..?” She asked.</p>
<p>Fearing some kind of sexual stalemate, Daria’s answer came quickly and forcefully.</p>
<p>“Well, considering my pussy is currently dripping wet onto your clean bed sheets as we speak and every synapse of my brain is begging me to just bend over and let you take me as deep as you can, I think you’ll be the one doing the fucking.” She dictated.</p>
<p>Jane took a wordless moment to process what she had just heard, eyes fixated on Daria. She was quickly snapped back to reality by Daria’s pointed address.</p>
<p>“Jane! Fuck. Me.” Daria said, the words came forth in the form of a demanding snarl.</p>
<p>A lustful stupor overcame Jane before she mumbled her reply, “Okay.”</p>
<p>She suddenly kicked her legs out and scrambled to pull the strap on, once it was in position over her mound she hauled it tight.</p>
<p>Jane gritted her teeth against a dizzying rush of oxytocin, and placed her hands on Daria’s shoulders. At that point Jane’s body was barely her own, she turned Daria away from her and pushed her face-first into the bed.</p>
<p>As Jane handled her Daria let out some kind of guttural yelp-moan, a noise she had certainly never heard herself make before.</p>
<p>Jane licked her fingers as she moved to mount Daria from behind, using her saliva to wet the tip of her dildo. She soon realized this was redundant because of how astoundingly soaked Daria was already.</p>
<p>Daria’s legs quivered as she gripped the bed sheets and turned her head to the side, forcing her breath through her teeth.</p>
<p>Jane angled the tip of her toy against Daria’s crotch and she shuddered heavily, sliding inside effortlessly.</p>
<p>Each of their senses dissolved into a scarlet red haze as Daria felt Jane push deeper and deeper inside, further than Daria thought possible.</p>
<p>
  <em> I. Need. You. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Jane and Daria's apartment floor plan: https://imgur.com/B6Qn7Yv</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. In focus, in time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I won't beat around the bush about why its been so long, and I apologize for the wait. The reason is twofold, work/life commitments and a change in my writing process. Working shift work makes the amount and quality of my free time unpredictable, and we just recently got a puppy which has been taking up most of the free time I do have. As well, I greatly cut down on drinking. For those not aware, I wrote a majority of chapters 3-12 drunk, high, or usually both. I stopped doing that, which reduced how much and how quickly I could write significantly. It's for health reasons, though, so that's how its going to have to stay. I am going to aim for a chapter roughly the length of this one every 2-ish weeks for the time being.</p><p>That being said, please enjoy Chapter 13: In focus, in time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>Quinn eyes opened slowly, the room was blurry and the cracks of light that shone  through the gaps in living room curtains caused her to sneer as she rubbed her face. She pulled herself into a sitting position and glanced around the room.</p><p> </p><p>It had been trashed, though on first examination there at least wasn’t any structural damage to the house. A potentially overblown concern, but from her last fragmented memories of the night before, maybe not a completely misplaced one.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn groggily rose to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. Her movements were that of a dazed shuffle at first, however this was partly remedied by a glass of fridge-cold water, and then a second. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a steadying breath.</p><p> </p><p>The state of the kitchen around her was better than that of the living room, but not by a wide margin. Empty pizza boxes, bottles of mix and dirty dishes were piled on the counters. The sink was splattered with-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Puke. That’s puke. God. Damn it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Quinn pinched her nose, turning away from the heinous mess in disgust and marched across the room headed for the stairs. She entered the upstairs bathroom in search of ibuprofen, which when found she downed an indiscriminate amount of. She looked up from the bottle into the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>The morning light pouring through the bathroom window illuminated her visage, though party-haggard she would likely still be the best looking person in a room of her peers. She swept her hair back over her shoulders and tilted her chin up slightly, angling herself more into the sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>Hickeys dotted the sides and nape of her neck. Unmistakable marks like purple-red wine stains on muslin. She winced, and gave a resigned sigh. There was no explaining those away, even if she could cover up what had happened to the house.</p><p><br/>
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She returned to the kitchen, retrieved a garbage bag and began to do away with the most immediate debris in her path back to the living room. Shortly she was interrupted by the cordless phone, its muffled ringing caused a spike of anxiety to race her heart.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn straightened up, bag in hand and furrowed her brow. She really, really didn’t want to talk to her parents right now. Or for the rest of the day, if that was an option. She knew she couldn’t ignore the call, though. Things would look even worse if she did.</p><p> </p><p>After retrieving the handset from under some greasy pizza boxes, she pressed talk, and grimaced as she raised it to her ear. To her immediate relief, the voice that reached her wasn’t either of her parents. It was Sandi.</p><p> </p><p>Before Quinn could say a word, Sandi launched into a disjointed rant about the night before.</p><p> </p><p>“Quinn, it’s bad. Things like, didn’t go according to plan. Maybe for us they did, but things didn’t go according to plan” Sandi sputtered.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn cocked an eyebrow, she wasn’t following. As far as she was concerned, she got drunk, had a makeout session with a rich, hot guy and ate as much pizza as she could physically fit in her body. Mission accomplished. Right?</p><p> </p><p>Sandi continued, sensing Quinn wasn’t following.</p><p> </p><p>“Tiffany and Stacey, you know how they wanted to like, tag team that one dude, right?” She said.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, yeah?” Quinn replied. She did vaguely remember such a plan.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, like long story short they got wasted and blue balled him. Quinn, Tiffany and Stacey hooked up. They like, banged each other, Quinn. They were wasted and they fucked, now they’re not speaking to each other!” Sandi elaborated in a huff.</p><p><br/>
Quinn’s gaze was distant, she heard what Sandi was saying but the words just rattled around in her mind at first without really sinking in.</p><p> </p><p>“So… What do we do now?” Sandi pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn was shocked, baffled even at this revelation, but something else was baffling her. Why did Sandi think she would know how to handle this? She was typically a willing drama sink, but this was a whole different ball game in terms of drama. It wasn’t even the same sport.</p><p> </p><p>“Sandi, I don’t… I have no clue.” Quinn said finally.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, the fashion club is in like, jeopardy!” Sandi replied.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn cast her eyes up to the ceiling, “Yeah. I get that, Sandi. I’ll have to call you back, I need to deal with the disaster area that is my house before my parents get back. Talk later.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandi sighed into the receiver. “Alright, fine. Call me,” she said, and hung up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What. The hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Quinn shook her head wearily and returned to the task of cleaning. She wasn’t in a state to deal with any of that, but she knew it would need to be addressed sooner rather than later.</p><p> </p><p>She continued cleaning, but her mind was elsewhere. It was torn between the drama she had just been dragged into and the almost inevitable bust waiting for her when her parents returned, if she couldn’t get the house spotless within the next few hours.</p><p> </p>
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The world tree swung lazily back and forth. Encased in glass it’s gnarled, earthen branches were frozen in time. With both their attention fixed on the pendant, laying perfectly still, Jane and Daria could almost feel the earth move under them.</p><p> </p><p>Jane held the necklace at arms length. Daria stared up at it, the light that glinted through the edge of the pendant sparkled as it reached her sleepy eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“So your parents worked on this thing for the majority of your life?” Daria asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jane lowered the pendant slightly, slowly, until the glass touched the tip of her nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. I’m not the sentimental type, but there's something strangely endearing about that.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane drug the pendant downward, it fell from the tip of her nose and danced over her lips for a moment but not picking up any marks from her badly smudged lipstick as she pulled it down to her chest. She let it fall in a heap.</p><p> </p><p>Daria traced a finger over Jane's collarbone in thought. Her eyes met the silvery-pink jagged scar on Jane’s shoulder for a moment, and she deliberately looked away.</p><p> </p><p>“They wanted to give you the entire world. Literally. Sentimental or not, that means something. Especially coming from two people as laissez-faire as your parents.” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shifted slightly. Her legs were still wobbly from orgasms she had stopped counting after the third.</p><p> </p><p>She sighed and spoke up. “Speaking of sentimentality.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria rolled onto her side and draped an arm over Jane's midsection.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” She asked.</p><p><br/>
Having turned her eyes from the ceiling to Daria, she noted her frazzled hair, lack of glasses and red-tinted lips. Jane had inadvertently shared her lipstick with her friend, mostly on her lips, but it certainly ended up... Elsewhere as well.</p><p> </p><p>Jane gave a seemingly bashful smile before continuing. “Us. This. Are we going to call it something? ‘Exclusive’? Or ‘steady’ if you’re feeling old-fashioned?”</p><p> </p><p>This line of inquiry caused Daria to perk up slightly, relieved to find the topic was also on Janes’ mind. Daria reached for the pendant resting on her friends chest between her breasts and picked it up, rolling it between her thumb and index finger, thinking.</p><p> </p><p>After finding her words through the afterglow, Daria spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I like this. A lot. Love it, to be honest. That should probably go without saying, though. The thing is… We shouldn’t discount any options prematurely…” She said, trailing off.</p><p> </p><p>Jane gave a quizzical expression. “Options? Go on.” She encouraged.</p><p> </p><p>Daria hummed to herself. “I mean, it is college after all. New experiences, new people. ‘Exclusive’ might be a bit of a blanket solution,” Daria continued carefully.</p><p> </p><p>Jane gave a small nod. “I’m listening.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we ask each other if we want to go... ‘Exploring’ so to speak?” Daria said, fixing her eyes on the effigy of Yggdrasil she held between her fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Jane stifled a chuckle. “Is that a delicate way of saying we should still be able to fuck other people, but just to ask each other first?”</p><p> </p><p>This drew a noticeable blush from Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm, well, when you put it like th-” Jane cut her off.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’m into it.” Jane agreed.</p><p><br/>
She tilted Darias head up with the edge of her finger and locked eyes with her, suddenly serious.</p><p> </p><p>“Just remember. It’s us first. Always. If anyone you ‘explore’ with were to hurt you…” Jane said, leaving the sentence ominously unfinished.</p><p> </p><p>Darias eyes widened as she looked into Janes’. She gave a quick, understanding nod. That arrangement suited her just fine. Jane then wrapped her arms around Daria, giving a wince as her shoulder protested slightly at the change of position.</p><p> </p><p>Having come to an emotional understanding, and each exhausted from the work they had just done on each other, they drifted off to sleep. The pendant lay on the bed between them, the breeze from Janes’ bedroom window quiet and steady slowly cooled as the night crept on around them.</p><p> </p>
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</p><p>The first week post-secondary education passed with little fanfare, as was expected by both Jane and Daria.</p><p> </p><p>They endured the typical “year-one, week-one” gauntlet of purchasing textbooks, figuring out where their classes were, which professor would give them the least grief and where to sit in each class to draw as little attention as humanly possible.</p><p> </p><p>Fortunately for them both, their living situation had been mostly sorted in the interceding days. Jane made use of the classified ads left by the landlord, and had secured a slew of cheap but mostly functional second-hand furniture for their apartment. Able to furnish four rooms for less than five hundred dollars, including a TV, Daria was thoroughly impressed with Jane’s shrewd frugality.</p><p> </p><p>Additionally, Trent had made good on contacting Jane with the benefactors’ red-line. She had required some convincing that this wasn’t some sort of practical joke, but in the end she accepted the odd “favor” as he described it, and kept the number on a scrap of paper in her inside breast pocket. They both hoped she would never need to call it, but “Plan B” it remained.</p><p><br/>
Five states and four hundred miles away Quinn hadn’t fared as well, despite cleaning more in a single day than she had in her entire life up to that point. Upon her parents' return they spotted an empty Zima bottle smashed in the driveway that Quinn had missed. Not to mention the immediately recognizable smell of alcohol, throw up and stale pizza that permeated the interior of the house.</p><p> </p><p>Having put two and two together, the grounding that resulted was swift and absolute. Quinn would be disallowed from going on shopping trips, meeting for lunch with the fashion club, or any other extracurricular activity for no less than eight weeks.</p><p> </p><p>A silver lining to her situation presented itself in the form of not having her phone privileges revoked, which allowed her to keep in contact with Sandi and remotely attempt to sort out the still-ugly Tiffany and Stacey situation after school hours.</p><p> </p><p>The situation was tense, the two women had “accidentally” slept with each other in an alcohol and hormone induced daze and made use of Quinns bed to do so, while neither of them had any such sober intention. The fallout caused a rift in the fashion club, with Quinn and Sandi acting as mediators between the two.</p><p> </p><p>Tiffany and Stacey held each other accountable for their actions, and when confronted with the idea that they may have had subconscious feelings for each other that were unlocked by the inhibition-dissolving alcohol, the predicament worsened. They all knew there would be both time and a requirement to hash out this issue during the coming school year.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>On Saturday of the first weekend of the 99-00 academic year, a ringtone interrupted the off-kilter beat of <em> White Trash Heroes </em>by Archers of Loaf which was playing almost loudly enough to drown it out completely. Morgue stood up from the slightly ratty couch in her and Jaces’ living room to answer the call.</p><p> </p><p>From the stool he was perched on beside the stereo, Jace paused re-lacing his combat boots to turn the music down. Neither of them got phone calls, ever. Which was exactly was how they liked it. Notwithstanding, Morgue decided to indulge the caller.</p><p><br/>
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She picked up. “You’ve got Morgue.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um. Hi,” the voice from the other end began, unsure of itself. “It’s Daria.”</p><p> </p><p>Morgue rolled her eyes. “Wrong number. Bye.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria spoke up quickly, “Sorry, you know, from the campus gift shop?”</p><p> </p><p>Morgue perked up. “Oh, wow, right.” She held the receiver away from her ear for a moment to address Jace.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Jace, it's that lady that was barred by her doctor from eating birdseed.” She joked.</p><p> </p><p>Jace snorted. “No shit?”</p><p> </p><p>Morgue held the phone back to her ear. “You’re all settled in, I presume?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“As settled as one could be in the fever dream that is life in post-secondary education,” Daria replied wryly.</p><p> </p><p>Morgue smiled a twisted smile. “Preaching to the choir.”</p><p> </p><p>After a silence just short enough to not come across as awkward, Daria got to the point of her phone call.</p><p> </p><p>“So uh, what was your plan for giving out your phone number to two strangers?” She asked, half-joking.</p><p> </p><p>Morgue clicked her tongue and hummed audibly. “Daria, if the question is ‘what’s the plan’ then the answer is always ‘to chill’,” she explained.</p><p> </p><p>“So you good to hang? Friend Jane can come too of course,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Jace who gave a curt nod.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m game.” Daria said, expecting some elaboration from Morgue.</p><p> </p><p>“Sweet. See you soon,” Morgue said. Then promptly hung up.</p><p><br/>
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Daria’s eyebrows raised at the abrupt end to the phone call. She blinked at the phone in her hand for a moment, shrugged and hung up as well. Strangely vague as it was, the call imbued Daria with mingled sense of confusion and excitement at what ever Morgue had in mind for them.</p><p> </p><p>She turned on her heel and swung the fridge door open, retrieving a bottle of Josta she had found on clearance at their local grocer. Daria cracked it and took a tentative sip.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh,” she said out loud to herself and held the black jaguar-emblazoned bottle up. She wasn’t sure what was in it but it was cold on a hot day, so she kept drinking.</p><p> </p><p>She took herself and her beverage out from the kitchen to the front door of the apartment where she pushed the screen door open and leaned against the doorframe.</p><p> </p><p>Daria took another sip of her soda and admired the scene that was playing out in front of her. That scene was one of Jane exercising on their front lawn. Though the lawn was cramped, it was large enough to accommodate one woman and her workout equipment.</p><p> </p><p>Jane didn’t notice her audience initially, as her eyes were closed, a stony expression on her face as she prepared to engage her final rep. Daria could faintly make out <em> Suite-pee </em>blaring over Janes walkman headphones as Jane squared up to the bar in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>She grasped it, the rusty cast iron plates on either end clattered as she hefted the hundred and twenty pounds from the ground. Daria raised an intrigued eyebrow at the sight of Jane muscling what had to be close to her own body weight.</p><p> </p><p>Jane manoeuvred the bar to neck height and paused for a moment, intensely focused. A bead of sweat fell from her chin and impacted the steel she was clutching below it. She pushed her centre of gravity forward, hoisted the bar up and over her head in one swift motion letting out a ferocious grunt as she did.</p><p> </p><p>Daria smiled as she watched Jane lower the bar back to waist height under control, and then let it drop to the ground. The edges of her plates sunk into the earth with a heavy <em> thud </em>.</p><p> </p><p>No longer concentrated on her workout, Jane felt someone watching her. She turned toward the apartment and met eyes with Daria.</p><p> </p><p>“Did I ever tell you I’m a sucker for a good gun show?” Daria teased.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lucky I don’t charge admission,” Jane scoffed as she loosened her wrist wraps.</p><p> </p><p>She sauntered up to the front steps of their apartment and sat down breathing deep as she palmed sweat from her forehead. Daria moved from the doorway and took a seat beside her, offering Jane a sip of Josta which she declined.</p><p> </p><p>“I was just on the phone with Morgue,” Daria said.</p><p> </p><p>Jane chewed her lip slightly in thought, not immediately understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“You know the two tall, pale, mysterious people we met outside the gift shop. Morgue and Jace,” Daria reminded her.</p><p> </p><p>Having had the memory shaken loose, Jane nodded. “Gotcha.”</p><p> </p><p>Daria set her drink down on the step beside her. “Morgue said she wanted to meet up with us, but uh, that's really all she said.”</p><p> </p><p>“Weirdly unspecific,” Jane said and leaned back, tossing her wrist wraps aside.</p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later after some chit-chat while Jane cooled down, a pearlescent black and chrome Bronco rolled up the street, coming to a stop in front of their apartment. Jane and Daria stopped talking and turned their attention to the vehicle that idled in front of them.</p><p><br/>
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They both watched as the driver side window rolled down. It was none other than Morgue, who gave them a goofy wide grin and stuck out her tongue which turned out to be shockingly long. Jace peaked out from the passenger seat and waved.</p><p> </p><p>“Ladies.” Morgue greeted.</p><p> </p><p>Daria and Jane glanced at each other, baffled.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m assuming you gave her our address?” Jane asked Daria quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Daria shook her head to the contrary, shifting her gaze to Morgue and then back to Jane.</p><p> </p><p>Jane gave a puzzled expression, “Then… How?”</p><p> </p><p>“No clue.” Daria said and stood up from the step to go greet Morgue.</p><p> </p><p>Jane shrugged and did the same. They would chill now and ask questions later.</p>
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